Today I wrote over 500 words in the form of three letters. One I may never send; I walked to the post office through the squeaky snow in the bitter windchill and mailed two.
In the letters I detailed my daily life, past and future. I described the denouement of the old year, and my aspirations for the new. Like a wikipedia article, I included references to film, literature, and informative websites. Smiley faces and enthusiastic punctuation spattered the margins. I keep notebooks full of doodles and lists; I add yearly to my collection of recipes, addresses, directions, quotes, ideas, and treasure maps; but letters–letters connect me to other human beings.
Process vs. product has been a discussion in the writing consortium. I am on the process end, yet I believe the process IS the (intangible) product, just as time equals money. Some days I don’t have anything worth saying. Those days are better for listening. I have sat hours staring at a blank screen, or poured ink onto a page in desperate doodling. Is that failure? No. Is it okay to skip the effort if I don’t feel the desire to write some days? Yes. This is why my writing goal is to write once a week, because chances are good that one out of seven days I will feel the urge, the need to get something out into the light of day. I am the sort of writer who must write some days. Other days, I must read, or must walk, or must draw, or must drink, or must hold, or must make.
I made a spreadsheet with our 2015 Anchorage Projects, but accomplishment is not where the joy lies. The joy, the pain, the permanence will be in the moments, the process, the working. Not one moment at the finish line, but many moments of doubt and wonder along the way.
All of this rambling seems so abstract and… flooffy. I guess I will just hit enter.