Monday, July 7, 2014
the joy of making continued in schizm
The most interesting schizm of creators is when they deny their own work, sometimes humorously, in pretending it never happened. But they know. And we know. In these instances it makes me wonder what part of self lept into control of the creator to make them do what they did, and to feel shame after, knowing some infantile or degenerate or reverse-gender bit took the reigns and made them do something, like the actions of a blackout drunk. Ooh. Interesting. And everytime that creator is confronted with his or her own work, there is the reminder-the soft bit in the shell-poking at them, remember being at the tender mercy of psychic forces, advertising something to the world that lurks within, unseen, hated, loathed by the creator and ultimately denied. I take novelist Henry James as an example, because he denied his first published work the affection and recognition it deserved. He put down other works of his own, but this did not stop him from collecting pay on them-nay, nay. This did not stop him from creating, in a self-defeating manuever, slaving over papers in the gloom, making something he knows he will not like. Or did he respond this way after seeing the works' reception? A question I'd like answered. Was he so insecure to formulate his own opinion after gauging another's? I note that his own works that did not have his enduring love were fine efforts, worthy of his name, but there you have it: no love from the maker, doesn't want to discuss them, or discusses them in the resoundingly negative. But it was his toil that made these things he hated, so I beg to wonder what it really was about these works he hated so much. This leads us past communication, or the need for such, and into the need for therapy. "Venting" is the popular term, but initialing, punctuating and putting in order the issues might be a more accurate description. Sometimes defining the problem is the most important step, and could actually suggest a solution intuitively. If you speak the problem, you could, as if by magic incantation, disturb it's hold on you-partially dispell it. Catharsis is overrated, and usually symbolic of more problems, I says, and is a band-aid or dressing, not the cure, for the whole body may become infected from the wounded limb, despite the best bandage: that thing needs medicine. But by all means, I'm not stodgy; so let it out, I say. And be forewarned that I may not listen.