Hey out there,
Was the salutation Pat Conroy used when he finally blogged (he disliked that word) what he referred to as his letters. On March 26, 2014, he wrote, “I’ve come to that point in my life when my memories seem as important as the life I’m now leading.” I understand that. Conroy fought blogging, but eventually took to it, resulting in the book A Lowcountry Heart: Reflections on a Writing Life, which is an anthology of his postings.
Pat Conroy’s Outlook
Pat touted the fact that he gave up writing poetry at a relatively young age and thus did much for the world of prose, by writing it; and for poetry, by not writing it. Pat also made a wonderful life for himself and his family by writing several best sellers. Had he been exclusively a poet, the odds would have been against equal financial success.
My Writing Memoir
I have been writing poetry (or creative prose) for a short part of my long life. In a way, I gave poetry up at young age too, by not beginning writing until much later. That was a mistake I’ll always regret. All I can do now is write as much as possible.
I smile when other writers talk about how they began writing in grade or high school, some as late as college. Well, me too, but my goal was to complete assignments for grades and promotions, no more. Bukowski began his poetry career at 35, half the age at which I began my own personal tryst with verse.
Like many others, I began writing earnestly after I fully retired. My previous careers involved extensive writing, mostly of a technical, business, or academic nature. It was not what one studies in Creative Writing or Memoir classes. It paid well enough. During my years of employment, I learned much about the craft of writing, if less about the creative and artistic aspects. I am working my recovery.
On Memories and Life
So, getting back to Conway’s quote on memories and their importance. I now lead the life of a writer and blogger. When people ask me what I do: I write. My memories, like Pat’s, provide seasoning, if not substance, to everything I write. Sometimes I think that since I started so late, I need to catch up. Now, I write all I want and about whatever I desire. I feel like I am making up for lost or wasted time.
New Blog Site Announcement
This blog site will continue as a literary blog for my poetry, essays, and anything related to writing that I want to share, but I have created another blog site. It is called Dispassionate Doubt: Broodings and Ponderings of a Pensive Skeptic.
I don’t like to post things unrelated to literature on Our Literary Journey, even though I wrote them. Furthermore, during the month of April I will post a poem each day on this site, related to the challenge of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). Additionally, I will post every weekday for the A to Z blog challenge on the Dispassionate Doubt site. In subject and substance, one will have nothing to do with the other. So, I will have two blogs. I think many of you do also.
Poems of February 2019
This completes my second month writing a poem each day of 2019, as a self-challenge. The topics, subjects, or titles of the 28 poems were:
- Placid Place (finding peace after fighting)
- Why? (do we do things we do?)
- The Stone (also working an essay on this)
- How to Die
- Tranquility Shit
- E-Day (Emily Day)
- The Call (a life-changing phone call)
- Changes (in life)
- Basic Good (me, maybe)
- Master (becoming one)
- Weeds (literally)
- What It’s Like – Old (on aging)
- An ekphrastic poem: An Old Boat (also one about painting my portrait)
- Dancing Trees (In the wind)
- Death by War
- Play (literally about playing)
- Midnight Writer
- The Florence Diner (the place and people)
- Perception (differences in how we see)
- I’m Alive (celebrating life)
- Coal Miner’s Son
- There Be Dragons
- That Old Time Rock and Role
To view the new WordPress blog site, click on the title in the announcement paragraph or here.
Look both ways, but remember it rises in the east and sets in the west.
Learn how to find Polaris, the north star.
Mind the gaps, the wonder, and the mystery of life;
of being, and of the universe.