Some days I tool around the blogosphere and want to slit my wrists at all the exquisite prose I read. There are times when I feel so inadequate, so word-sloppy.
Good writing simultaneously turns me on and slays me. When I read an excellent piece of writing, particularly on a blog, I feel:
1) Admiration for the writer.
2) Desire for the writer.
3) Envy of the writer’s talent.
4) A competitive itch.
5) Personal despair.
It’s a potent brew. I don’t always feel all of these to the same degree, but they’re there.
Yes, they are. Just remember that you often the object of that self-same brew.
When you feel that way, just go to one of the widely-read political blogs and read the comments section to see how many people can’t write their way out of a paper bag, and you’ll feel MUCH better.
Not your first post to make me think you oughta have a 12-minute loop of “Children and Art/Lesson #8/Move On” (from Sunday in the Park with George) in continuous rotation on your music player. Though, the way creator and consumer are depicted as two distinct personages might to some minds seem a theatrical convenience.
Which would you be? How about the rest of us out here in cyberspace?
In fairness, “Move On” would have been more charitably subtitled “Move On (If Only It Were That Easy)”. For something more courant, try Stefani’s “What You Waiting For?” The video with the extended prologue is fun-ny.
If my mind worked more like Sondheim(-zuhz), I might have found a way to rhyme “more charitably” with “less imperatively” *before* I posted that. Oh, the angst.