Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Just Let Go

     
Forget all rules, forget all restrictions,
as to taste, as to what ought to be said,
write for the pleasure of it -- whether slowly or fast --
every form of resistance to a complete release should be abandoned.
 —William Carlos Williams



So what shall I write when given so much freedom? Shall I run rampant and let adjectives spin out of control or arcane words flit about on the page? Still I know that after these moments of freedom I'll need to go back and edit, cut out, rephrase, substitute words—delete words, paragraphs, pages.

But writing for pleasure may allow for a playfulness that prances and uncovers possibilities. I'll write about the time I blew a bubble so large that my eyebrows fell under the mantle of a deflated bubble. My mother, armed with a cuticle scissors , snipped away at the entangled gum and hair.

I'll write about my skate key. I wore it around my neck like a religious symbol—my announcement to the world of my belief. I believed that with practice and good posture I could beat Annie skating down the hill—a forbidden route because of the steep incline. By the time I tried Annie moved on to other pursuits.

I'll write about attending the Art Student's League life classes while in middle school and wondering why the women modeled nude and the men modeled with a thong. Of course I rarely looked up at the model so my proportions lacked any accuracy.

Perhaps I'll spin a tale or write a poem or attempt a prose poem even though I'm not certain about the form.

Maybe I'll write automatically —channeling a past writer.

Maybe I'll say to William Carlos Williams —easier said than done.

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