Following up on last week, I felt very confined by the Sonnet. And it apparently was clear in class. At first, I was unusually proud of my piece, but in class it came off more as a collection of nice lines than something cut of whole cloth. There was so much emotion bubbling between the lines and I felt like Paul was giving me permission to relax my adherence to the rules… or at least such emphasis on formal presentation. So, I literally went immediately to the library and wrote the poem I wanted to write… which in many ways deals with finding my own life… but sounds quite a lot like finding my own voice.
Maybe finding your own voice requires the same kind of self-confidence it takes to find your own life. There are many smart writers who seem to have the same voice… or at least unoriginal voices. There are many good people who seem to have similar lives. In some cases these are beautiful lives of their own choosing… but in other cases these are lives witch just happened… perhaps like a derivative voice. A friend once told me that life is, at its best, dull and good. I struggle with this. But perhaps you have just have to ask yourself what kind of life you want, and what you’re willing to risk. Maybe all good lives eventually do become a bit dull. If public service is the rent we pay for life (something I firmly believe) than maybe a bit of dullness is the price we pay for home. Perhaps having the life you want, like finding your voice as a writer, has much to do with allowing yourself to be dissatisfied, taking a look within and saying, “Ah-huh!” Well... in any case... as scattered as that is... I think that's what my sonnet is about.
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