Day 91: Less, but Better Words

My traffic spike is well and truly dead.  It back to just me and the words and not a single pair of eyes.  At least that’s what my WordPress.com Stats plugin says.  I don’t know if that tracks feed readers–I kinda think not.  If I get time I might wrestle with Feedburner today.  Though when I glanced recently it didn’t look to have changed it’s chunky UI.

I’ve written of my jealousy of artists being able to make a stroke or two on a page and have a clear product.  I’ve even tried to put my money where my mouth was, but the effort is flagging.  Sunday I drifted through the entire inventory of a art supply store here in Houston looking for books and hope.  I made out pretty well.

Flipping pages in one of the more instructional how-to’s I came across an exercise entitled “Treatments of Water”.  Below the title was some text I didn’t read–how little respect I have for my passion for words.  Below those were five sketches the author/artist may have spent less time on than it takes to sharpen a pencil.  Lingering on the page was not necessary as the gestalt smacked me hard with about four clear thoughts at once: artistry is work no matter how much I think it isn’t, a primary characteristic of water is it’s desire to be level, edges like rocks or glass lend water all it’s interest, and I could parallel this lesson in words.

With wild lack of imagination, or perhaps unintentional homage, my first rendition was of five scenes involving water.  Some less directly than others.

I enjoyed the effort and liked the structure but ultimately I was sloppy in my execution.  I put in too many words and sentences to have truly mimicked the artist’s lean example.  I will be trying this again soon using less, but better words to accomplish more.  Maybe a few of these will instruct me on how to use more less but better word combinations.

Word count: 332

Day 80: There is a Temptation

There is a temptation to celebrate this as eighty consecutive days of blogging, but then I’d have to celebrate all the 10’s and maybe some of the 10-1’s–because they are close.   So I’ll endeavor to refrain.

Watched “Babe” with my daughters tonight.  It was basically the first time they’d seen it and we went all the way through since the ending is the best part and the whole point of watching the movie in the first place.  “That’ll do Pig.  That’ll do.”   It nearly makes me cry.

I caught the tail end of “Armageddon” with Bruce Willis the other day.  A line from that chokes me up every time too, “That’s not a salesman. That’s your daddy.”

There is another many moment in a cheesy movie floating out there that I thought I’d be able to pull up for this list, but it escapes me at this writing.  I don’t know where I am going with this line except to say there are some movie’s out there that make it briefly hard for me to swallow I find them so touching.  Every one of them is a ‘manly’ scene or some sort.

When ‘Doc’ steps out of the playing field in Iowa to save the daughter from choking on a hotdog!  That’s the other one.

There is an call in those scenes to write till I have one of my own

Word count:  228

Day 78: 1000 One Step Journeys

Often as I sit before the keyboard and the screen I wonder exactly what I am going to write next.  Will it please me or will it suffice.  More frequently than I like it only does the later.  Will it extend the blossoming work I am doing on the Shanty lines?  Will it be something entirely new and intriguing?  Or will it be something more like this?  My brain dumping a few thoughts to barely cover a debt to me of sevety-eight days ago.

I might not always be proud of the content, but I am continually happy that I don’t let myself get away with a fail.

The feeling of not writing tonight or any time is exactly like the craving I get on the penultimate day of a fast.  I’ve done enough.  There’s nothing I prove by going one more day when I’ve already gone this long.

Bargaining with oneself is so odd, so ironic.  If you could video tape a person doing this in their heads and play it back it would be comical, sad, or both.  The audience–even the auto-audience–wouldn’t fall for it.  They wouldn’t understand how either half of the man could.  Yet I do.  Or at least I can.  It’s nice to use that oddity for something constructive.

They–the Chinese ‘they’–say that a journey  of a thousand miles begins with the first step.  What they don’t tell you is that the the journey is made up of first steps.  It’s hard every time.

Word count: 245