I was thinking this week about what my goal is in writing these blog posts every week. There are at least three that come to mind, but perhaps more will surface in the coming weeks.
To structure my play of the “Feelings Collector” this year. Last year, when I played the game for the first time, I had some difficulty with remembering to play regularly. I would get really into various of the portals to my chosen feeling for several days, a week, maybe even a month, but then forget to play for long spells. Part of this was due to finishing my dissertation, but that’s a poor excuse. Blogging gives my play a rhythm, a temporal structure within which to improvise and explore, a beat to rely on when my energy and attention are flagging.
To teach myself things that I want to actually know inside-and-out. I read a lot, but my natural tendency is to browse—to go a mile wide, but only an inch deep. I have long wanted to be able to speak off the cuff about what I read, but have often found myself struggling to recall details and arguments with acuity, brevity, and clarity. The point of writing these essays is to force me to really study texts that I find important and digest them so that I can talk about them.
To make writing a habit. As a friend recently put it, “practice doesn’t make perfect, but it does make champions.” I want to make a living as a writer—whether as an academic or otherwise—and the only way I can see that happening is by honing the craft. But I don’t want to just write for work, I want to write for my own enjoyment.
But, there comes time when any regular practice needs refreshment. This week I am taking some time off from processing my notes and instead—inspired by a recent interview on The Creative Independent—to step back and evaluate my attachment to consistency, subject, style, and materials.
I also think there’s something to taking time off from art, and being okay with not attaching myself to constantly working on this subject, style, and with these materials. I find you learn a lot with distance to anything. (Nic Annette Miller)
All I Can Do is What I Did (Murmurmotion)
Relief, pigment dust, scroll saw cut out
Nic Annette Miller (May 2016)