A new perspective

Sunday, August 21, 2005

Good day to all cyber wanderers,

I have successfully uprooted myself for my small hometown in a smaller town, or it seems so. My classes start tomorrow. Oh joy! I have often thought and on even one occasion said, men seem to define the existence by suffering. If one is not under some kind of duress board coming on a pointless task, we usually assume we are dreaming. If we do not come to consciousness then we deem in the day or task to be doomed and abandon it. Even though I go to great lengths to define myself as a fully functioning individual, I too prescribed in this crazy idea. I'd be a college as a necessary evil. A great struggle one must endure to claim the right to know something. Most the time it looks to me as though they go through all that were just get a piece of paper that says they know what they know when in fact they may know more or less than the certification declares. Oh yes, I almost forgot unlike other life ventures we must pay for this one. Yes, when did you ever left think of paying for pain. In essence that is will we do. Outside the recognition games we also enjoy social development so I've been told. So amongst the massive looming stress and physical work we must somehow find the time to find ourselves. Because apparently, up to the age of 20 or so you will know who you are. Well, I hate to defy convention but I know who I am. Of course, I can spend the time trying to educate others how to except what they see. To this wonderful, usually four year journey we get to enter the world of the working. When there, we will long for the college days and life it allowed. Whilst we are in college we usually wish to be home again at some time or another. Oh well, people will always want what they cannot have. Simultaneously, they wonder why they wished it gone so quickly. However, while you're kicking yourself remember this: these ups and downs are life. You live and die, but living does not mean you'll have a life. Living its existence. Life is interaction.

Even though it is short and riddled with grammatical errors, this one goes out to a fellow logically engrossed being. In truth, you're probably the only more that reads this anyway. Who am I talking about? I am certain that the individual can figure it out.

As always

Nathan Lee

sidenote: too lazy to reread, figure it out!

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

To Be A Writer?

Embracing a dream to see what comes

The ability to fashion ideas and thoughts in such a way as to express them clearly and powerfully to others, this is a writer. To entertain with fancies an adventure. To create a world of fiction for others to enter, this is a writer. To allow the idea that is in one's head to pass to paper. Letting them be born. Reframing them from being just another thought. To revisit them until they become fully formed characters and stories. To read them until they become what you want them to be. To you, they cease to be fiction, they become real. When I speak, I'm not just speaking of those published and professional writers. I speak to and for all who have ever put pen to paper, all who have let things become. The people who are not afraid to let their mind wander And their hand move. I am certain, that many writers have lived and died in darkness. That writing is never to be seen by another human eye. Now I asked does that make their writings less powerful or meaningful, perhaps, less elegant, complex. No. To be a writer takes patience. This patience is not placed on the publisher, but oneself. To have the thought, but lacked the words is one of the most frustrating fillings I have ever known. This frustration causes fatigue and lends to the idea of forgoing the effort. To this, I suspect many writers were lost to the world. I have ideas. They are all present and flashing in my head. Will half of them ever reach paper? No, not likely. Does this mean I should stop trying to do something that seems so impossible? No. I like words I like knowing them in using them. Combining words into strange yet correct phrases. Using words in unconventional ways is not always wrong. As a matter of fact, sometimes that is the only way to tell that someone has written something and it was not someone else. This my friends, is called style. Be that as it may, many teachers’ especially high school and college teachers frown upon free liberty writing. Such writing breaks grammatical code and is therefore wrong. I have been "wrong" many times. Did they change my writing style? To some degree they did but I like to think I kept the foundation of my format intact through all those spirits sucking essays and research papers. For a writer, to know and use words is to love them. To love them is to use them. To use words in creation is inspiration. Do I love words? Yes, I do. It is because of that love of words and their uses that many writers aspire to become professionals. I also believe it is because many writers become professionals to gain that one element they lack, an element that propelled them to greatness, an audience. Even with the Internet and all other technological marvels a reading audience can be hard to find, unless one is published. To be published requires a certain level of conforming. This will not do for some, thusly, may lead to stay in the shadows rather than compromise their ideas.

One who claims to want to be a writer and claims failure due to lack of education is in self-denial. Inspiration, imagination, is the fuel behind every word and letter. No one needs special classes or permission to come up with ideas. If someone supposedly lacks the talent to write that means they lack the passion for words or ideas. If this is true, they need not write. To those who work and toil, triumph will come. That idea, that plot, that elusive word will come in time and with it will come the fulfillment of true worth and power. Nothing beats it. This sensation success will energize you for years to come.

Why did I choose to be a writer? There are many reasons, but ultimately only one matters. Ever since I was little I wrote stories, had thoughts most of which are kept to myself. Why this hesitation? Fear, fear of ridicule, fear of rejection, and fear of competition: losing to someone better. Although, as most know, playing with words, you will get better you must practice. While practicing this art you will loose to others. When you lose you will learn. When you learned you get better, eventually, you might win. Riding is also a median which I identify as art. It is an median I can successfully render. It is the only method that I can use to express myself. I cannot sing, I cannot paint, I cannot play music, however, I can describe. I can paint pictures with words. I can make environments and suggest music for the reader to accompany with his or her imagination. I can make a world and invite hundreds of people to come see, to come be a part of the world. Those participants are my audience, my readers perhaps they will love this story and thusly love me. When they love me I will love my writing. When I love my writing, I'll love my life. To love your life is indescribable, even by writers. Will I be a novelist? I know not. Will people love my writings and love me? I can't fathom. I know what it takes to be a writer, for I am one. To Be a Writer... is a choice. Choose!

First College Reflection

Pre-college (#1)

Truth, college is sometimes the long awaited post-secondary venture, to others it is a close terrifying encounter with the third kind. I am with the latter. College scares me. I know it will test me on all levels. More than one I have labeled college “that necessary evil”, I do not know whether or not that statement holds true. I will soon discovery the answer. With much apprehension I will enter that life of higher learning. Yes, I said life, for that is what it will become. My life is my own personal twilight zone. I was going to drag this out, but I have just now realized there is no need. If college is to become my life, then fearing it be the same as being afraid to live. That is not tolerable to any degree, no matter the reasoning. One can not life. If you do it might just leave you.

Yours Truly,

Nathan Lee

Short? Simple? Yes. Helpful you tell me, post comment.