The Clowning

(or)

IN DEFENSE OF LITERARY BLOGGING

(again)(See Post 600)

On a Saturday in February of 2013 we held the book signing for Robot Crickets. On Sunday Corrie's Grandma June passed, and on the Monday we drove off to Texas to be a part of her farewell. I have this post to show for it.

A pair of close friends who weren't able to make the signing came and visited the weekend after we got back from Texas. As always it was nice seeing them---it keeps us connected to our college selves, for better or for worse.

One of the friends started to mildly poke fun at what he perceived to be "what I did", as in the act of being a blogger, or blogging in the sense of income creation and tiny book-writing and selling. "And this is where the magic happens," he said with a smile upon seeing the computer desk nook in our tiny apartment. I didn't correct him with the truth: for the most part I never sit there to do blog-post writing. But in that moment I realized that the truth didn't matter.

He made another comment about needing a laser pointer to tease Tuxedo, thereby creating more content for my blog. Like I spent my days sitting around, playing with the cat to make content, and trying to make a go of it. I could tell he resented what he perceived to be my occupational goals given that I had welched (as he saw it) on my kitchen skills and was loathe to return to the industry.

Nevermind the fact that I was in the middle of getting the paperwork ready to go back to school and get a new start on the "career" aspect of my life. There have been different points in my life when I thought creating content and getting eyeballs to check it out could have generated enough income to sustain the gig. Nevermind the fact that those days were long in the past by this weekend conversation.

We had a chuckle about the laser pointer, and I agreed that that wasn't too far off, but that I would like to think that some of the posts I write are about things slightly less trivial, or in a manner that renders trivialities into something more. He smiled and said, "Of course, of course..."

As we walked to dinner that night what he'd said had stuck in my craw. He was clowning on something I partake in as a means of artistic growth, or catharsis, or experimentation, or memory preservation, but what he said NEEDED to be said. I needed to hear it. It got me thinking. A whole scenario played out in me head as we walked.

This good friend of mine had checked out the blog right before the trip down to Long Beach. The leading post that day was most likely What is That Sound?, a post that is about being in a twilight state as Corrie showered and Tuxedo macked away on the dried leaves of a  flower that had been next to the bed. It sounded like someone eating potato chips next to my ear.

A blog post about the writer's cat.

But in general I could tell this good friend doesn't read the posts. I realized on that walk that if you don't respect the art, you're certainly not going to respect the method.

I needed to confront an existential crisis.

While living in Brooklyn and years before starting this blog I wrote a piece called "Forgery for Lingerie". I had a few days before starting a new job and decided to spend one going and retrieving some of Corrie's Victoria's Secret gear from a shipping hub across Brooklyn. Some things happened during the day, I eventually had to forge her name on the slip to get the package, and then made it home. The piece itself captures the story along with the perceptions of different neighborhoods in Brooklyn, sneaking a can of beer during the walk, the forms and combinations of public transit and walking--all the inglorious realities.

It was certainly inspired by Hunter Thompson, but more mundane; truth, but fully subjective. The excitement is rendered through the words and sentence structure. The experience was only as exciting as I was excited to have been doing it, and that was something I tried to capture/amplify for the writing of the piece. That is the craft and the artwork being created.

"Forgery for Lingerie" is the perfect example of a "blog post" piece of literary art: it has a short-form format, it's anecdotal and truthful, it has perceptions of the world and possible interpretations of larger meanings, it tries to capture excitement in the mundane, and it is rendered in an artistic way. BUT IT HAS NEVER APPEARED ON ANY BLOG EVER. It is just an example of a form.

Some of the posts I write I feel aspire to a higher plane, to be among other written pieces that make up the capital-A Art, but whether you agree or not is the conversation, the artistic argument. I don't think I have pantheon-level artistic examples, but so what? This media is young, and we're pioneers.

If a belief structure posits this as a forum that cannot, and will not, produce Art, then that belief structure certainly won't appreciate the work that goes into creating the content. Even recognizing the enjoyment of some of the content isn't the same as recognizing the possibility of Art, and still a person wouldn't necessarily respect the method.

The good friend who got me started on this internal debate as we walked to get fancy BBQ is an extremely hard worker. He works out regularly, manages a bar, makes a home with a wonderful woman, was a performer in high school, sings karaoke so well it altered my opinion of the whole endeavor, and felt close enough to me to clown me in my own home about something I did/do.

Whatever it was worth, he generated an opinion on my work, informed or not. As a writer, not everyone is going to like your material, and this was the most mild form possible to help someone confront the existential crisis. Today people are usually far more vile in the way they show their disgust for content and its creators.

I appreciate this friend for helping me to look at this writing endeavor from a different angle. I try to not be too full of myself, but looking back on my reaction that evening, that would be hard to argue. Hearing what you need to hear is what good friends are for.

I'm going to finish this whole thing off with a quote that guides me:

"If you can create content, you can create Art."