Wilderness Of Things
A few thoughts about writing, painting, and James Baldwin
Today I sat by the open window. It rained overnight, and cool air came in through the screen. The smoke was gone. The land was as clean as a bone.
I read James Baldwin this morning as I drank tea. He said that painters can sometimes help others see things more clearly. It seemed strange to me because the blurry paintings I tend to like are often not very clear. But they do leave one with an impression or a feeling. I feel like painters paint with their bodies at their best. Writers, like me, unfortunately tend to write with their mind. But as time goes on, I am learning to write more with my body.
As far as writing goes, poem books are the only ones I find myself carrying around. It's because I can open them again and again and never really understand them. Like a good blurry painting, they leave me with a feeling but no clarity. Unless the conclusion is the truth of compassion.
It's these kind of things that keep me coming back for more.
I might even call this aspect something. It’s like the good feeling I get when I know I have more in me and can write something. It’s the feeling when I always want to see what’s around the next corner on a trail, a feeling I’ve had with me since I can remember. I might call this feeling or idea: the wilderness of things.