So, I intend to begin a series of ruminations on my own growth as a writer. Things that have worked for me, things that need improvement, ideas I have. You know, what I made this Tumblr for in the first place!
This week, there should be a post detailing the delightful collision of my professional life and the creative life. Should that be your thing, please stay tuned! If not, well, there will probably be some lag time between them. I do have to actually write, after all. Novel isn’t gonna finish itself!
I do my writing with a Pentel GraphGear500 mechanical pencil. I bought a new one this last year at the Kinokuniya book / stationary store at Mitsuwa Marketplace in San Jose. My previous pencil deserved retirement and now hangs on my medicine bundle. But, I have one complaint about this new pencil: the metal pocket clip comes off far too easily. As of now, it’s catapulted into parts unknown, leaving me without the ability to clip my pencil to my writing journal. Oh, the hazards of this life-craft!
I know, cry moar noob.
can you use the term, “i shit you not” in an english essay or is that unprofessional?
nonononono, never use “I” statements in formal essays.
One shits you not
Also acceptable: This author shits you not
It’s best to avoid the “general you.”
“One would not be considered shitted,” is probably the best way I could think to word it formally.
Very much, this.
Every pay week, I have a desire to make a new mix CD. This coincides with a trip up to San Jose on Saturday to spend time with Alice and Kal. And have some excellent ramen makes the trip pretty damn good too.
Anyway, after a nap following a long, slow day at work, I decided it was time to get a CD going. And I thought to myself that this is one of the many rituals I’ve created in my life. When I make a CD, I am focused on it almost solely. There’s a lot of work involved in being sure one song flows into another, that there’s a theme, a feel, and a purpose. Others may not see it that way, but the CDs that I make become waypoints in time, aural snapshots. Will I fully remember the moment I made the CD, what I was thinking? Probably not, but I will remember the feeling that I had making it and the feeling that I get while listening to it.
My writing can be like that sometimes too: I may not be able to pinpoint the day or hour, but I can tell you what things were basically like while I wrote a certain section. Rituals, to me, mark time and add meaning to it by adding familiarity. It a way, the ritual is secondary to what actually happens: thought. By engaging your hands or conscious mind in the task, you can allow your deeper self to operate freely. It no longer has to monitor what you’re doing; you’re not going to get yourself into trouble while your focused on something like a ritual, as long as you’re in a safe place. Your mind can make sense of all the input it’s received over the day / week / however long between rituals. Many people never take the time to go over what they’ve done, where they’ve been, how they got there, and how they felt through it all. It’s all just action if there’s no thought, no understanding. Maybe others can live that way, but I don’t think that I could.
So, as I’m sitting here, trying to make songs fit together, I think I understand why I take such care in it. This ritual may not be for everyone, but I’m glad that it works for me.
Find your own rituals, my friends. Find them and hone them. Make meaning in your life instead of hunting for it.
In San Jose, there is a lovely Asian market called Mitsuwa Marketplace. It specializes in Japanese goods and has a kick ass food court. There are two places to eat within the market: Miyabi-tei and Santouka, a bento shop and ramen shop respectively
The ramen shop is called Santouka and, as the huge lines attests to, the ramen is excellent. If their ramen is anything like it is in Japan, I know that my visits there will be dotted with delicious stops for the tasty noodle soup.
This ain’t your college dorm’s ramen. Not by a long shot. No, this is food of the gods. And, like any food of the gods, it’s great to share it with awesome friends.
This morning, my wife and I engaged in a payday ritual: take-out breakfast. When I went to get the grub, I was sitting in the drive-thru lane when I noticed something odd in the back ‘green zone’ of the restaurant: a chicken. Like, a well cared for chicken too. In the middle of Salinas. This ain’t San Juan Bautista here, folks!
Here is a picture as proof: