Sparkle Boat

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Speaking of the Unexpected

Well, there's the unexpected in life, and then there's the unexpected in art. I suspect, after my writing session today, that the unexpected in art can be just as disjointing and terrifying as the unexpected in life.

I was trotting along on this story I've been working on, when suddenly, Bam! The character has an insight about himself that feels totally right, but changes everything he's been thinking up to now. And now I'm left wondering: What the hell is this story about then? What kind of story is it? It's no longer a known thing, and while that's kind of nice--unpredictability is what saves us from formulas and the conventions of genre--it's also kind of scary and frustrating. I have so many questions, none of which I have the answers to yet.

I can't remember who it was that said that writing is like driving at night--you can only see as far ahead as the headlights allow, but you make the entire journey that way--but that's exactly it right now. Essentially, I'm blindly stumbling forward, hoping that nothing jumps out at me and wrecks the whole endeavor. Will the journey end safely? Or will the story be killed by a metaphorical deer? All I can do is drive slowly and carefully, paying close attention to what I can see, and trusting that what I can't will eventually be revealed, and that it won't kill me.

Wish me luck. It could be a bumpy road ahead. Or then again, maybe not. I really have no idea.

Monday, September 26, 2005

The Expected Unexpected

Remember what I said about feeling helpless in Katrina's wake? Well, I did get to help my friend from New Orleans after all, setting her up in me and my fiance's apartment, helping her to get settled in her new life in Austin. Soon I'll be helping her find a new place to live, which I'm happy to do. Chaos, however, is ever present, and I think of the way people use it as an excuse not to use their gifts, including myself when I'm feeling especially lazy or faithless.

My friend's unexpected (but welcome) presence in my daily life is an example of this kind of quotidian chaos. Suddenly, my routine and my daily experience are thrown out of whack, and the thing is, despite the fact that it's either a hurricane evacuee or an unexpected illness or whatever, we pretend to never get used to interruption. But what is "normal" life? I don't think it exists.

Which is why despite the recent chaos, I am working to find the unexpected expected, which theoretically should help me sail through such times with as much serenity and equanimity as is humanly possible. Equanimity, by the way, is lately one of my very favorite words. Not only does it roll off the tongue, but it is such a lovely idea--to be able to navigate the troubled world with a kind of ethereal, yet grounded, grace.

Anyway, if we accept that life is truly beyond our control and that the future is truly not in any way predictable, we will find that our gifts have to be used now, if they are ever to be used at all. My mother has this favorite saying of hers: "When everything calms down," she'll get to doing this or that. When everything calms down. It's strange, because she's been alive for 61 years, and she still believes everything will calm down. I don't, really, even though I know some times are more turbulent and others calm, but I don't really believe that there will be some beautiful open stretch of placid repose. Well, there is, but it's called death. So to wait for the time when Everything Calms Down is to wait to start living. And I, for one, want to live in the here and now, and use my talents and gifts for the time I've been given here on Earth.

So here's to the expected unexpected. Here's to no more waiting. Here's to the fullest possible life.