For those who are not aware, I tend to be the sort of person who appropriates the quirkiest habits and language of what is around me and using it long after it has ceased to be popular. Not being a person who is particularly trendy in any aspect of my life, and ruthlessly acquisitive in the pursuit of knowledge, I tend to be a repository of archaic words and phrases and expressions and mannerisms that have long faded from common knowledge but remain current to me because they have somehow lodged themselves within my memory, which (truth be told) can be a scary place to be.

I have commented elsewhere on this particular habit of mine, and I do not wish to repeat myself too much with specific details about the sort of odd quirky words and phrases I often use. What I would like to comment about is a particular tendency that prolific artists of any kind have that is revealing and also a bit troubling. At least two songs I am very fond of deal with the phenomenon of the singer having nightmarish visions of lengthy writings. In “Swallowed In The Sea,” Chris Martin (of Coldplay) sings about writing a song a hundred miles along, while in “Perfect Symmetry,” Tom Chapin (of Keane) sings about dreaming in mile after mile of just empty pages.

It would appear that my tendency to easily acquire random and quirky words and expressions and my somewhat compulsive tendency to create texts are not entirely coincidental. Nor is this a quality that is limited to me. Being someone who tends to be reasonably alert and aware of what is going on around me, as well as somewhat intuitive, and of an anxious and nervous personality, I tend to acquiare a lot of information from outside that can often be somewhat overwhelming. In order to cope, I tend to reflect on what is going on and seek to find patterns to fit the information into, patterns that provide both insight into understanding the given facts one acquires and perceptions one has, as well as providing solutions to problems and strategies for managing situations. Of course, these plans and strategies must always be refined with better information if they are to be effective, which requires more input and more analysis in a never-ending process.

Nonetheless, as analytical as a person as I tend to be by nature, many of the problems I have to face simply cannot be dealt with merely as data to be analyzed. Being a person who is rather shy when it comes to emotional matters, and having lived a life that has burdened with me a great deal of emotional matters to deal with, I have tended (like many other people) to view writing as a means of coping with this sort of burden. What this means is that since at least the age of 13, with ominous hints long before that, I have written in some manner or another at an alarmingly prolific rate simply to cope with what I think and feel for my own mental health. Of course, this means that there is a great deal (even an alarming amount) of written information from my own pen and keyboard that may condemn me, seeing as we are accountable every word we utter in any form.

When anyone creates, they reveal their own nature as a result of how they form their art. Our art, no matter how we try to disguise it, will show our passions, our insecurities, our preoccupations, our ways of coping with the insanity of the world around us, our concern and charity for others (or lack thereof), and a great deal else. By creating, we expose the deepest parts of our nature and character to public scrutiny, and for those of us who are a bit reserved and timid by nature, this is a terrible burden to face. We may face this burden bravely, or cowardly, but that does not make the essential tension of our art disappear by any means. Any time we bring our personal business out into the light to wrestle with it, we leave traces of that wrestling that allow other people to see somewhat inside of ourselves, even if only partially and without the necessary context to put it in its proper place. The more prolific we are, the more traces we leave of our character and our deepest selves for others to pour through if they so choose. Whether those records justify us or condemn us is a difficult and deeply uncertain matter.