Turns out, attempts to live a life apart from cliché is itself a bit cliché. As I parted my old life in search of anew. Threw a bit of caution to the wind. Chased a new beginning by starting a story with no middle or end. Just a new starting point and hopes of Sui Generis.*
*Sui Generis (yes I forced this word in here just for the excuse to explore it a little)
=Creative arts, for artistic works that go beyond conventional genre boundaries.
=Philosophy, to indicate an idea, an entity, or a reality that cannot be reduced to a lower concept or included in a higher concept.
In the context I recently encountered this phrase, it was referring to beginning a new creative endeavor. It really is a bottomless pit concept though. Something that came from nothing. Beyond creative and philosophical boundaries lies the biological version of Sui Generis, animals that have predecessors they share no likeness to. It is the very nature of idea generation and I think it is beautiful. The next idea may be so unlike anything that came before it the world will never be the same. Is it a painting or an invention? Is it solution to an engineering problem that could help fix the ailments of the world? Sometimes the leap into the darkness is what it takes to see a new kind of light.
Where were we? Oh yes! Cliché. Turns out library shelves are filled with people doing exactly what I have done. Often in much more bombastic fashion than my little jaunt to the beach. Turns out there is a rich history of people saying fuck it and setting out on new beginnings. Also turns out many people have written about their adventures too. I hope sharing my particular experiences does the tradition proud.
Life is about living
Try to watch this and not smile the whole time. I dare ya!
I have been writing. If you would be at all interested in reading some fiction I am writing please check out my link here. It is nothing remarkable. 2 of the entries were for contests with writing prompts and the Venice story published yesterday is just a part one I am going to be putting out weekly. Let me know what you think.
In Neal Stephenson’s prescient novel Snow Crash, one particular bit of language caught my attention. It was well placed and well formed. It used the pretty words in the right places. As I write more I aspire to use language with this much artistry, and I hope it does not land contrived. The line is presented about a Grandmother possessing the gift “to condense fact from the vapor of nuance”.
When I read that line I put the book down for a moment. I actually grabbed my notebook I always have while reading, and jotted the striking phrase down. When I returned to the book I discovered the writer must have really liked it themselves, because the following line in the book repeats the line. What follows is the protagonist saying how he never forgot those words, and neither will I.
Be well everyone.