Just like you, I decided to re-read this after seeing it a few weeks ago. To me this paragraph is what stood out.
"What I’m saying is that everybody should cultivate their own voice; this is a good thing, no matter how humble or cringe-worthy they believe their writing to be. Don’t judge it, make mistakes, invent new words, let it flow -- your people are out there waiting, and chances are there’s a lot of them. Authenticity may be an overused term, but it holds immense value."
I really do wonder what would happen if we really cultivated our own voice. What it would do to our pysche, to our sense of self, to our sense of worth.
I’ve been thinking recently on writing a first draft fast. Disassociating speed and quality. Speed lends to stream of consciousness, it opens the door up to the subconscious, where you don’t know what you’re going to say and surprise yourself with what you write.
The world is a better place with you sharing your writing. Happy (belated) birthday, Silvio.
Thank you so much for your thoughtful message and birthday wishes, Tommy! Your reflections on the process of writing a first draft quickly are spot-on, to me. Speed can be a gateway to "unfiltered creativity", where thoughts flow freely and unexpectedly emerge from deeply inside us. It's a reminder that the raw authenticity of our initial words holds a unique kind of beauty.
Beautifully put. I was reading about Mary Oliver's creative process -- some poems she would reword and rework for hours, but some just came to her (from above, from the Muse, from God) and she just had to hear and transcribe. Some famous author once said "I sit at the typewriter and listen".
Also -- I had a thought yesterday: If you can tap into parts of your unconscious when writing and if the unconscious is truly collective (shared between humans), then writing attains a higher level of resonance because it puts language to things that other people feel, but didn't have the words to articulate.
This is a great reflection, Tommy. Thank you for citing Mary Oliver's creative process: pure gold. And your insight is spot on. Writing has the incredible ability to bridge the gap between individual experiences and collective emotions. By tapping into the shared aspects of the unconscious, it allows us to express feelings that many can relate to but might struggle to put into words. This resonance is what makes writing a powerful tool for connecting and understanding one another on a deeper level, I guess. So much food for thought here! :)
What a fantastic piece of meta(?)-writing, Silvio.
You will forever be in my head saying "Just write like yourself. Whatever interests you, will interest someone else. You have a recognizable voice". It's tied to you, your worldview, and I'm grateful to constantly hearing it from you in such a genuine way, because it gives me comfort and reassurance.
And now I'm very happy to read you apply it to yourself, and feel content with what you've written (deservedly), that's wisdom!
Thank you deeply for your kind words and shared sentiment, Oscar. It warms my heart to know that the idea of writing authentically resonates and offers comfort. Embracing our unique voices, with all their quirks and perspectives, is indeed a powerful journey, and your appreciation fuels this mutual exchange of wisdom and growth. And I'm truly grateful for our shared exploration of expression and authenticity. :)
It works because it's you. And this is by no means a obvious conclusion. Your old pieces may have some imperfections, or something you don't like anymore, or a few words and/or commas out of place but they are yours. They are part of a journey, and in my opinion this is also their beauty. They are contextualized, they are the voice, themselves, of mistakes and victories made but which have served you and can be useful now to do/be, better and better. You hear and have heard your voice because you put all of yourself into what you write, I don't think it gives you discounts (for better or for worse) and this is perceived. Or at least that's how it feels to me. Perhaps this also falls into the taste (?) of reading.
I feel like saying "carry on" spontaneously and transparently.
Thank you, Mari, for your thoughtful reflection. You've captured the essence beautifully -- those old pieces, with their imperfections and unique context, indeed form MY journey. They carry the essence of growth, of personal evolution. Your perspective truly resonates, and thank you for your encouragement: a refreshing breeze! Your candid "carry on" echoes with authenticity and inspires me to continue this journey of expression. With sincere gratitude, one of your fellow travelers. :)
Love this and Bob Dylan! Refreshing to hear your feelings about your previous writing. I think it would be great if everyone could look back on their older writing with greater affection. :)
Reading you, I thought back to what happens to me by looking at photos I took many years ago. I still generally like them and often think I was a better photographer in the past than I am now. THAT would mean that I am headed toward utter inability to photograph, and evidently that is not the case. The truth is that the photos have not changed but the eyes with which I look at them have changed. Other times I look back at photos I had discarded, finding them interesting instead. Once again: my eyes have changed.
Rightly you are not talking about style (you have already done this before) but about voice, which is something more natural and less filtered by the mind. Style can be affected by context, voice cannot. When voice is conditioned, then it becomes style.
So at the root of everything is really the voice, which is a distinctive and unique character of ourselves. As always, excellent food for thought!
Thank you, Martino. Excellent reflection on photography. It's our eyes that change, not our photos (or not so dramatically, I'd say). Voice is something that emerges from everything we do, say, and think. It's our distinctive mark. And I believe that muting or altering it is way more difficult and energy-draining than allowing it to flow freely and fearlessly. This might sound obvious, and maybe it is, but sometimes I'm amazed at the amount of effort we invest in trying to sound or appear like someone else, when we could redirect that energy and time towards exploring our inner selves and becoming comfortable with our own voice.
Yours are profound questions, Camilo. I like to think that it will be a net positive for everyone. A world of authentic voices sounds like something so natural and spontaneous, but it’s harder than we think. Unfortunately. The more I think of this, the more I realize that the idea of finding our own people is crucial. It can’t be otherwise. Thank you, my friend, for always being here.
Just like you, I decided to re-read this after seeing it a few weeks ago. To me this paragraph is what stood out.
"What I’m saying is that everybody should cultivate their own voice; this is a good thing, no matter how humble or cringe-worthy they believe their writing to be. Don’t judge it, make mistakes, invent new words, let it flow -- your people are out there waiting, and chances are there’s a lot of them. Authenticity may be an overused term, but it holds immense value."
I really do wonder what would happen if we really cultivated our own voice. What it would do to our pysche, to our sense of self, to our sense of worth.
I loved this.
I’ve been thinking recently on writing a first draft fast. Disassociating speed and quality. Speed lends to stream of consciousness, it opens the door up to the subconscious, where you don’t know what you’re going to say and surprise yourself with what you write.
The world is a better place with you sharing your writing. Happy (belated) birthday, Silvio.
Thank you so much for your thoughtful message and birthday wishes, Tommy! Your reflections on the process of writing a first draft quickly are spot-on, to me. Speed can be a gateway to "unfiltered creativity", where thoughts flow freely and unexpectedly emerge from deeply inside us. It's a reminder that the raw authenticity of our initial words holds a unique kind of beauty.
Beautifully put. I was reading about Mary Oliver's creative process -- some poems she would reword and rework for hours, but some just came to her (from above, from the Muse, from God) and she just had to hear and transcribe. Some famous author once said "I sit at the typewriter and listen".
Also -- I had a thought yesterday: If you can tap into parts of your unconscious when writing and if the unconscious is truly collective (shared between humans), then writing attains a higher level of resonance because it puts language to things that other people feel, but didn't have the words to articulate.
This is a great reflection, Tommy. Thank you for citing Mary Oliver's creative process: pure gold. And your insight is spot on. Writing has the incredible ability to bridge the gap between individual experiences and collective emotions. By tapping into the shared aspects of the unconscious, it allows us to express feelings that many can relate to but might struggle to put into words. This resonance is what makes writing a powerful tool for connecting and understanding one another on a deeper level, I guess. So much food for thought here! :)
What a fantastic piece of meta(?)-writing, Silvio.
You will forever be in my head saying "Just write like yourself. Whatever interests you, will interest someone else. You have a recognizable voice". It's tied to you, your worldview, and I'm grateful to constantly hearing it from you in such a genuine way, because it gives me comfort and reassurance.
And now I'm very happy to read you apply it to yourself, and feel content with what you've written (deservedly), that's wisdom!
Thank you deeply for your kind words and shared sentiment, Oscar. It warms my heart to know that the idea of writing authentically resonates and offers comfort. Embracing our unique voices, with all their quirks and perspectives, is indeed a powerful journey, and your appreciation fuels this mutual exchange of wisdom and growth. And I'm truly grateful for our shared exploration of expression and authenticity. :)
It works because it's you. And this is by no means a obvious conclusion. Your old pieces may have some imperfections, or something you don't like anymore, or a few words and/or commas out of place but they are yours. They are part of a journey, and in my opinion this is also their beauty. They are contextualized, they are the voice, themselves, of mistakes and victories made but which have served you and can be useful now to do/be, better and better. You hear and have heard your voice because you put all of yourself into what you write, I don't think it gives you discounts (for better or for worse) and this is perceived. Or at least that's how it feels to me. Perhaps this also falls into the taste (?) of reading.
I feel like saying "carry on" spontaneously and transparently.
Signed: one of your people
Thank you, Mari, for your thoughtful reflection. You've captured the essence beautifully -- those old pieces, with their imperfections and unique context, indeed form MY journey. They carry the essence of growth, of personal evolution. Your perspective truly resonates, and thank you for your encouragement: a refreshing breeze! Your candid "carry on" echoes with authenticity and inspires me to continue this journey of expression. With sincere gratitude, one of your fellow travelers. :)
Love this and Bob Dylan! Refreshing to hear your feelings about your previous writing. I think it would be great if everyone could look back on their older writing with greater affection. :)
Thank you, Sandra. And absolutely agree! Paying attention to and embracing the evolution of our thoughts and words adds depth to our creative journey.
Reading you, I thought back to what happens to me by looking at photos I took many years ago. I still generally like them and often think I was a better photographer in the past than I am now. THAT would mean that I am headed toward utter inability to photograph, and evidently that is not the case. The truth is that the photos have not changed but the eyes with which I look at them have changed. Other times I look back at photos I had discarded, finding them interesting instead. Once again: my eyes have changed.
Rightly you are not talking about style (you have already done this before) but about voice, which is something more natural and less filtered by the mind. Style can be affected by context, voice cannot. When voice is conditioned, then it becomes style.
So at the root of everything is really the voice, which is a distinctive and unique character of ourselves. As always, excellent food for thought!
Thank you, Martino. Excellent reflection on photography. It's our eyes that change, not our photos (or not so dramatically, I'd say). Voice is something that emerges from everything we do, say, and think. It's our distinctive mark. And I believe that muting or altering it is way more difficult and energy-draining than allowing it to flow freely and fearlessly. This might sound obvious, and maybe it is, but sometimes I'm amazed at the amount of effort we invest in trying to sound or appear like someone else, when we could redirect that energy and time towards exploring our inner selves and becoming comfortable with our own voice.
Yours are profound questions, Camilo. I like to think that it will be a net positive for everyone. A world of authentic voices sounds like something so natural and spontaneous, but it’s harder than we think. Unfortunately. The more I think of this, the more I realize that the idea of finding our own people is crucial. It can’t be otherwise. Thank you, my friend, for always being here.