tamarjacobson

Quote of the day:

I learned it was exhausting to write seriously. It's a bad sign if you're not exhausted. You cannot expect to produce something serious in any casual way, with one hand tied behind you, as it were, flitting around as the spirit moves you. You can't get off so easily. When you write something serious you sink into it, and drown up to your eyes, and if you happen to be assailed by strong emotions if you're very happy or very unhappy for some reason – call it terrestrial – which has nothing to do with what you're writing, then to the extent that the writing is valid and worthy of life, every other feeling will become dormant. You cannot expect to preserve your precious happiness fresh and intact nor your precious unhappiness; everything recedes, disappears and you're alone with the page; no happiness or unhappiness can survive that isn't intimately linked to that page; you possess nothing, you belong to no one, and if you don't feel this way, that is a sign that your page is worthless. Natalia Ginzburg: My Craft

Some mornings I wake up with an itch to write. Am not always sure what I want to write about. But the itch is there. In the tips of my fingers and with a buzz in my chest and lower abdomen. Not the coffee buzz type of feeling, although sometimes I do become confused between the buzzes. This morning is particularly strong. The itch. I sit at my desk and face the screen, hands poised over the keys, and then I decide – "the itch": write for ten minutes – go! Come to think of it I sense a burning in my eyes as well and a kind of excitement, as if I am going to give birth to something grand. I suspect that this has something to do with self expression in general, because I feel similar sensations just before I play the piano and sing along. Sitting on the beach in Cape May last week, I was reading an essay by Natalia Ginzburg and she described that feeling exhausted after writing something serious was a good sign. I wonder what she would say about becoming hoarse, which is what usually happens to me after I write a serious piece. 

A year ago at Mining Nuggets: Revelation

Seven years ago at Tamarika: Let the show begin … am I ready?