Transcribed from my book (non-elec-tron-ic) journal:
Jet-lag I used to enjoy, because I've always liked the selective company, misty visions, and distant sounds of early mornings.
Now at 2:58am, this sucks, because I actually have a busy day ahead.
But I am not unhappy at the fact that I am kept up equally by creative anxiety and the writing impulse. Little segues here -- beginning and follow-up unexplored --, an opening title there, projects, projects, fantasies, dreams in my world of one as it happens to be right now.
I have an active imagination.
I would like to think that I have the imagination, but not the illustrative skill, of an animator, which to me also means having the heart of a child and a willingness for laughter and magic.
I imagine it would be terrific to be able to call oneself an animator by trade, rather than simply character. To wear that label. To be worn by it. To have that on your namecard.
It does sound ... dominating, in the heroic sense.
"I ... am ... an ANIMATOR" (stress: "-TOR"), much like "GLADIA-TOR", or even: "THOR".
What excites me most about this is that behind every name is its verb, and in being an "animator" one animates, how terrific is that?, as opposed to analyzes, or markets, or "academes". That one brings images, stories, characters to life by giving them shape, movement, and surrounding.
3:18am. I am hungry! But I want to be able to go back to sleep! Or keep writing -- that's also OK.
I love writing. I love reading. I adore even the idea of having an idea. Even now, this almost felty touch of nib to paper, it's scritchy-scratch and the fertile white plain of paper soaking ink ... it's beautiful. A finished page of hand-writing -- it's beautiful.
Fucking hell, honking below at 3:20 in the morning.
Again! Hell!
[The writer has gone to the refridgerator. REFRIDGERA-TOR.]
Photo of the Day
the imaginary other people and what do they think?
About Me
- The Itinerant Didact
- ...is a world traveler. An aspiring artist. A promising upstart. A paranoic. A has-been, a rising star, a harlot, and a prude; a spiritual and political progressive that battles traditional yearnings of the heart. She could be a perfume. She's nothing new. But she likes to write it all down.
1 comment:
Two years on and I still find TORs that flirt with me. A comment to myself, an addendum, September 10th 2007:
EDI-TOR
An editor is a person who gives something forth into the public, like a public game. In the Roman Republic, the Editores were politicians who, wishing to curry public favor, would put on fights between gladiators and animal shows.
Dancing is a blood sport.
Anyone who became a gladiator was, by definition, infamis (whence: infamy), not respectable, and beneath the law. Barbara F. McManus says about gladiators who had to swear an oath (sacramentum gladiatorium): “I will endure to be burned, to be bound, to be beaten, and to be killed by the sword” (uri, vinciri, verberari, ferroque necari, Petronius Satyricon 117) which consigned the gladiator to possible death, but also conferred honor much like that of a soldier.
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