On Writing, or lack thereof

There is a certain silent sadness to the lack of writing.

Now, don't get me wrong. There was a lot of writing in my life this year. Essays, blog posts, journal entries - a lot of nonfiction.

But there is a comfort to fiction that cannot be achieved with such safe material.

Fiction is dangerous. It feels terrifying because creating is terrifying. It is a jump into the unknown, where there may be a safety net or a concrete sidewalk in the thick darkness. If it doesn't work, it hurts. But that analogy is a poor one, since writing fiction will certainly not kill you.

Fiction requires a certain freedom to the mind, a lack of preoccupation. My brain, when fuzzy with obligation, does not want to write fiction. In that case, my brain just wants to sleep. Or look at adorable cat gifs. Or just stare at the ceiling for a while.

Suddenly, I'm out of school and I can write again. This year, I began to doubt whether or not I was actually a writer. But I suppose, in a way, that being a writer is not a question of writing every single day on schedule. Being a writer is a matter of coming back to it. Of needing to come back to it. Of having the ideas curl into smoky rings of vapor until they condense into liquid and can no longer be contained. That is writing. It is a difficult love, but a fruitful one.

This July I venture into Camp NaNoWriMo, land of 1613 words each day and insanity. I'm excited and terrified. And hopefully, in August, I'll have a novel to edit.

The silent sadness is over, if only temporarily.

Silence and the End of Some Things

Ballet teachers will yell, some more than others. It is simply a fact of life.

However, today my teacher lost her voice. The class was literally silent between exercises. No one spoke at all. We communicated via hand gestures.

It's strange, but when someone in the room doesn't speak and uses hand gestures to communicate, we often feel the need to stay quiet. And today, there was no yelling, and barely any speaking. Just music and concentration. I came out of the class feeling relaxed and with a huge grin on my face. There's nothing like silence to help you get centered. It was almost like yoga.

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Earlier today, I had my last geometry class of the year. And as usual, I was being loud and calling out and screaming answers. Of course, my math genius friend got everything first, but I got it shortly afterwards. Then, the teacher handed out the class placements for next year. If I were to stay, I'd still be in the highest math class - א'1 or I guess A1. You see? Calling out does pay.

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I think I'm going to watch an episode of Doctor Who now and eat some ice cream. What a wonderful evening.

(By the way, see The Vampires of Venice - Season 5 Ep 6 – as well as The Big Bang - Season 5 Ep 13 – for the Doctor Who reference in the title.)