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Writing Summary For The Week Ending 11/09/2023

Stefano Della Bella: Boy Writing (17th century)

I Wonder If I Ever Leave
I should be packing, but here I am writing again. The Muse and I intend to spend a few days away to kickstart the recovery from six dog months of campaigning. The transitions seem the most troublesome, for they offer little to distract one from all that's suddenly missing. The routine no longer needed, and no replacement routine ready yet; we figure we'll be better off far away from our usual surroundings, wandering. I continue to hold my precious patterns, writing rather than packing, condensing departure into a frantic few minutes. I expect to forget something important, but not my writing, my constant companion, my one abiding obligation. I do not know what I would be doing if I was not describing something. I take no vacations from my vocation. I take my obligations with me when I go. I wonder if I ever leave.

Weekly Writing Summary

I began my writing week republishing a story from 2018 because it seemed to be the story I needed to publish that morning, Becoming. "Once the project gets declared done, the auditors will inevitably employ that moldy done date to carp about how the effort didn't come in on time (or budget, or spec), and all will be right with the world again."
Alfred Stieglitz: A Wet Day on the Boulevard, Paris (1894, printed c. 1897)

"Becoming seems to be what we really are when we insist that we are anything at all."

I admitted that I have been feeling between passions in Between. "I gratefully outgrew omniscience."
Alfred Stieglitz: The Net Mender (1894)

" … when all finally seems right enough with this world."

I loudly complained when we slipped backward from saving precious daylight into observing DarknessSavingsTime, the most popular posting this period. "Let the Puritans among us worship in scratchy woolens. Let those who worship the past try to find succor there, but please let the rest of us revel in our genius, in our mind's most wondrous innovation. To not do so seems inhuman."
Ben Shahn:
Untitled [Cherry Street, New York City] (1933-1935)

"To not do so seems inhuman."

I registered a concern about difficulty baking in Oven. "If a chicken left the station set on one hundred seventy-seven degrees sou vide without steam, when will it reach its destination and be ready to be taken out of the Oven to rest before broiling finished? For me, the answer approaches the infinite."
Jan Joris van Vliet: Baker (1635)

" … the answer approaches the infinite."

I reported on the final day of The Muse's campaign in JudgementDay. "She'll gather with others once the votes have been counted to celebrate her win or her loss, for as she continually insists, she will win whether or not the electorate elevates her to the job."
John F. Peto: Lights of Other Days (1906)

"That difference will not be undone."

In what The Muse characterized as my best story ever, I described what we experienced when everything started ComingUpRoses for her campaign's close. She won by a landslide! "That sweet scent sure seems familiar, as if emanating from The Muse's own rose garden here at The Villa. Perhaps it is. We welcomed each other home."
Koloman (Kolo) Moser: Woman’s Head with Roses (1899)

"That sweet scent sure seems familiar …"

I ended this writing week admitting to an imposter's foundation in Palning. " It might be that every professional, or most of them, enlist in their profession in the naive belief that practicing might enable them to overcome their inherent dyslexia when engaging in it. It might be that best practices were all proposed by those with imposter issues."
Koloman Moser: "Golden Butterflies" wallpaper design
from the portfolio "Surface Decoration"

"… better to disappoint ourselves by sequencing our desires  …"

I can't imagine a better portrait of the various sensations surrounding a resounding success than this week's writing experience. I began this writing week by reposting an experience of Becoming, which seemed somehow more current and descriptive than anything I might have written that morning. I admitted to feeling Between passions before descending into DarknessSavingsTime, a most unwelcome destination. My Oven gave me a few fits to remind me that I was not in control of it, as if I needed reminding. Judgement Day finally came and rewarded, leaving The Muse and I feeling like everything was ComingUpRoses. I ended this writing week admitting to being an imposter in Palning. Quite a roller-coaster ride. Thank you for following along.

©2023 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

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