Playing into the subject.
Before I started writing here, I had a consistent issue with trying to ‘write outside the box.’ I would be chugging along, filling up pages and creating a storyline, when all of a sudden I’d freak out, say something like “gahhhhhh” and throw my pen across the room. Wait, wait, sit down. I’m not crazy, I promise. Let me explain.
It was just me, realizing that somewhere, I’d read this before. That my seemingly original thoughts weren’t so original after all. And it would bring me down, because for the first time in my life it became overwhelmingly clear that no matter how much I write for however long, I’ll probably never have an original thought, let alone express it on paper. The same thing has always happened to me after sitting down to write music. I’d strum a few chords or pound out a few keys, establish a melody, start to write lyrical accompaniment, and…ah, shit! This song has already been written.
I’ve come to terms with it now, but the question still remains: is the entire premise of writing as art devoid of any meaning anymore? It’s obvious that language is a limited canvas. And when we consider writing a form of art, how exactly is one supposed to push the envelope and come up with something completely unique if all he has is a single box of crayons?
Other art forms are different. It’s easy to utilize millions of combinations from media to material to dimension to environment. And as the world continues to develop and evolve, there will be no shortage of new elements to work from. Talking about writing this way only allows for one promising variable: time.
Still, the argument is weak. The way the world looks can change at a moment’s notice, but language only changes via the addition of a few hundred words every year, most of which are not the kind you’d want to read in a creative piece of ‘art.’ Think about it. Hip-hop artists are the modern-day equivalent to the playwrights of the Renaissance, and they weave elaborate stories into (sometimes) complex melodies, and even they have to use nonsensical word pronunciation and even made-up words to get by. Evidently, the lack of an adequate toolbox leaves us writers with a pretty serious dilemma on our hands.
So this is when it comes to a head. What to do? Can I really be satisfied taking the path of least resistance, reinterpreting and regurgitating the writing of my influences and pasting the information-age gauze over it? Or does something uncorked lie within my surroundings—and better yet, within myself—that will change the dynamic of writing altogether?
I doubt it, but I’m going to keep writing because it’s good for me and it gets me chicks.
3 years ago