Blogging & Ill Discipline.

I’ve been thinking recently, and possibly some might have noticed, the lack of regular posting here. There are lots of potential reasons…

1. Too much going on to form coherent thoughts.
2. Too many things that are inappropriate to talk about in this forum.
3. Quality not quantity.

This third, I can reference right away.

I’ve noticed, in surveying some of what I’ve written in the last few years that the immediacy and accessibility of blogging technology to ‘publish’ my thoughts has possibly led me to a lazy place when it comes to the craft.

Storytime
When I was at high school, I shared an English class with a girl who simply a phenomenal writer. She had a distinct style, her talent was obvious to see, as was her passion. At school – I was focused on radio & media. That form of storytelling was more important for my career path. And sharing a class with Jenni, whose rising star absorbed the disciplinary focus of our teacher at the time… well, left me feeling lacklustre about my own prospects as a writer.

If it hadn’t been for my English & Media Studies teacher, Mr Bates.. (I google him often, just in the hopes of finding him again)… well, possibly none of my writing would have ever found the public eye again.

It’s amusing, considering how much of my business and communications skillset come from simple, well-practiced art of writing. And I still have more in me.

I left that 5th form class thinking I would never be published and never attempt it. I’ve graduated my early twenties, making a living from it without shame and owning the craftmanship required to ‘write’… or (how I think of it).. “be compiling words” in many forms for many reasons.

My love of language and construction leads me to journalism, poetry, prose, lyricism and storytelling through script and visual medium.


So.. the Blog?

The temptation with blogging is to be too undisciplined in my execution.
Not enough thought or precision put to style, word choice, construction, punctuation and process. So here is my dilemma..

If in every other medium, I am well-edited, processed, re-written, outlined, architecturally sound both in flow and ideological progression – is it permissible to be so stream of consciousness in blogging? Or does that reveal the weaker flaws in my writing?

Is this like a journal of thoughts (I’m still scarred by those who simply consider this an inappropriate forum for what is published here… though they have little idea of the catalogued journal and notebook system in place for that which is much more private) – so it’s “casualness” permissible?

Or, like meeting someone for the first time – because this becomes my most prolific publication source, should I make more of an effort when it comes to first impressions?

I’m going to start reviewing those posts which have led me into trouble. You can expect that I’ll re-publish those posts previously removed, revised and edited.

The difficulty is that I want to be a good writer. Mostly because I want to say things that are meaningful, more than saying nothing in a beautiful way. I’m no Jenni, but now.. rather than suspecting I’m not remotely deserving of my ‘teacher’s’ attentive discipline and correction.. I’m looking for the process myself.. in hopes of sending her a book one day.

So, in true McGill style.. I’ve said in several hundred words what I could’ve accomplished in 35.


All writing deserves the attention of craftsmanship, to refine the thoughts interred and the manner of architecture around them. My suspicion is that blogging has made me lazy, so I’m attempting to turn the tide.

Feel free to offer your thoughts & comments. Am I the only one that feels this way from time to time?

Noodle – The Aotea Poet.

Years ago, there was a poet who wrote his one-off pieces in fine black marker on the inside of used soymilk cartons and sold them. He signed all his works ‘Noodle*’.

I had some favourites – two of them have sat in my favourite things pile for some time – because of their rich images and the words that describe this land of my birth. So here they are for you.

Noodle disappeared. I’d like to know what happened to him.. or if anyone else collected his pieces the same way I did.

FLYING DREAMS

Simple days are dreaming
Relax there’s no more scheming
The now is all consuming
Once you’ve caught the flow

The city is a pool
To which the river eddies
A tributary to the larger stream
That will help you when you leave

And confusion is a drowning
Whereas floating is a keeping
You’re (sic) spirit will only surface
If you keep from breathing fear

So like the Tui is learning
The lesson is in letting
Go of expectation
And becoming one with air

MORNING DISHES

The Matakana Hills
Bowl around like any other
Dish of countryside

Sitting next to
The Sandspit Harbor jug
The Plate of Warkworth Manor
The Colander of Dome Valley

Set amongst the cutlery of
Roads and teaspoon tracks
I’m reminded of your kitchen
And the dishes in your sink

did you ever love me?
ever really love me?
for i loved you

you with all your older, wiser, always knowing better
condemning all my youthful, ideal hopes
convincing me that you were right
i subjugated all my life… for i loved you, i really loved you.

i thought that we could grow together, surely somewhere
there would be some moment where you saw me
you really saw me and believed
these things i knew and know are right… for I loved you, i really loved you.

i hoped we would be friends by now, you would’ve softened sooner
perhaps have learnt some grace for all your years
but i know that things are done forever
we can never be repaired.. although i loved you..

did you ever love me?
ever really love me?
oh, i loved you.

if one day you came to me contritely, not even pride
would hold me back I would embrace you – for I loved you –
and i have always acknowledged I was young and thereby foolhardy enough
to have something to learn but also teach you
i could have taught you so much – for i loved you –
enough to have the patience it took for all those years
to love you and to teach you
i wonder
do you remember anything I taught you

did you ever love me?
ever really love me?
oh, i loved you.
i loved you.
will you love me again, one day?