Tuesday, July 12, 2005

windows and 'stuff'

I had thought over the last few weeks of closing down this blog. Then I came to one conclusion: that I am hibernating.

There is no point in going into any details of the 'stuff' that has been going on. It's very ordinary stuff, that walks through the door and along the corridor, wafts out of air-conditioning, that great office sea song, that brain softens the night.

I have hardly been able to write, and what I have written is cracked and abstract, though it has colours. I'm glad there's some colours. And it has weather.

I would rather read something dumb. I have a lot of dumb things to read. I have lost my judgement and rely on tracks.

This space is a window at the moment.

From my back window I see the birds, from the big black plate glass I see the night, from the front window the slating morning winking off clouds and car metal. And there's always something going on in the neighbourhood. So I hang around. Relying on tracks and old steps.

3 comments:

chris said...

Jill, Hi--

If I may say, based on my own recent restlessness about blogging/writing-as-in-blog: "Hibernating" seems to me exactly right as a way of putting that feeling and questioning of the bloggy status quo. A need to disengage the intensity of energy flux, but not to do so permanently, even if that possibility seems to drive the urge to disengage.

I'm hoping you continue blogging. I very much enjoy your posts--like your poetry, your spark and insightfulness on-blog always get me thinking.

Best Wishes,

Chris Murray

Okir said...

I do hope you will continue on. But I realize that hibernating is a good, and necessary thing, too. I seem to go back and forth between a "social phase" and a "writing" phase, and times when I just want to disappear.

take care...

Jill said...

Hi Chris and Jean,

Thanks for yr good wishes and encouragement. I'm still here but can't shake the 'somethings' that seem to prevent me writing here or almost anywhere.

I know what you mean, Jean, about wanting to disappear. In some way, that's a state of a writer, or my state, I suspect. It may align with my struggle over the 'I' in a poem.

Chris, it is also an energy thing, without getting new age about it. Literally, I'm tired, boggy rather than bloggy.

I hope to be back soon. But still readin' and thinkin' round the blogs and the books and all.

Thanks, Jill