Tag Archives: death

The Fires of Passion

In the midst of writing about the recent attack on the Charlie Hebdo office in Paris, I found myself caught up in the idea of writing and speaking and drawing and expressing for what you believe in. Putting every bit of your soul and your energy into getting something down and/or out that you feel strongly about, speaking loudly, if not yelling, about a change you know should happen.

With passion, all things are possible. With a fire in your heart and a frenzy in your head, you can accomplish and achieve in ways you never thought you were capable of.

When we let loose with this fire, it can spread wildly, across whatever it is that you’ve unleashed it on. Whether it’s political injustice, or┬áthe careen of a space ship around asteroids, our outlet for this is suddenly much easier to work through. Typing becomes fevered and fervent, you lose track of time easily while drawing, finishing or coming out of the frenzy leaves you in a daze, your paints leaving behind a trail of your efforts.

Removed from the equation, passion is instead replaced with other things, but the need for expression never really dies. Whether it’s depression or agitation, we’re spurred on by a desire of some caliber that tells us to go forth and release what we’ve had stored up and waiting. It helps us feel better or it gets us to evaluate what’s going on.

To see change, was one of the first phrases I remember used to describe satire. It finds a way to crack open and show the glaring faults in something, whether it’s unethical, legally wrong, ignorant, blaspheming or any number of other things, and brings it all to light. In some cases (see: not Animal Farm) satire can be funny. It’s tongue-in-cheek, a subtle but painful jab. The point is that it is a way of expressing that something is wrong, and being sarcastic or ironic about it in a way that gets attention.

The power of censorship means to take that voice and bury it as deep in the ground as it’ll go. Whether it’s done by gunpoint or by the threat of legality, censorship is everyone’s problem. With it, there is no room or freedom to speak your mind, there is no way you can write or paint or sculpt or create in the style you do or want.

As Evelyn Beatrice Hall once said about Voltaire’s beliefs, “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

With more and more details coming out about the shooting, the deaths of the suspects, and of course, the stunning displays of solidarity in the face of terrorism, I find myself at a loss of words. It is nothing short of gorgeous to see what has come from such a horrendous massacre.

Passion, from pain. When one voice yells, the whole world shouts back.

We need expression, to free ourselves, to see the emotion and the fire we hold manifest into something else. To transform, alone, together, singularly or fully, as one. No matter if it is about something ethical, or if it is an idea for a story you’ve been working on and chipping away at for years, stifling the voice kills not only creativity, but individuality.

Extremists may seek to silence the voices that shout at them and their religion, but they cannot silence us all. Least of all can they do so when we stand together.

Thank you.

-The Novice Wordsmith

Danger: Motivation Critically Low

I’ve been trying to avoid the elephant in the room, but it’s been ever more on my mind the more I get closer to the date.

Today was going to be perfect, I had a great post I wanted to get out and write on, something I was going to make sure was filled with every thought I had on the topic. It was going to be wise and beautiful and everything I wanted it to be.

And then I was reminded about an anniversary I never wanted to acquire in the first place.

I’m not one to talk about my personal life too much on this blog. It’s typically about writing and what I’ve learned from it in the past couple of years. The obvious lessons and the subtle ones. It’s about things that have changed my life and how I write, what my style is like and how I do what I do.

But today it’s about the fact that I’m too depressed to write much of anything. Originally, it was going to be about that, too, that I’ll be taking a bit of a break this week and coming back as soon as possible. I was afraid that taking a break was going to mess up my groove of posting so much, but this week… I need the time. I need to just be able to not have commitments, because it’s going to be difficult to keep them.

I’ll try and write as much as I can anyway; the depression shouldn’t last more than just the week. It’s like a heavy rock weighing me down right now, but I can keep on, it’s just hard to.

Suppose there’s something in that, though. I try to see something in all of what I experience, how it affects my writing, what perspective or view it gives differently. When you have a heavy anniversary coming up, particularly one from a familial death or a personal tragedy, there’s a lot that can go through your mind. The worst that you can do for yourself is bottling it up. Talk to someone. Write it out and send it to yourself, file it away in something private. Do something with it, don’t let it fester.

I figured that would be best, to talk about the event, but there’s that feeling that’s just telling me not to tell that story yet. So instead, I’ll just say it’s hard to handle. The first anniversary is the worst and the hardest, but I’ve gotten through all the other milestones of a year, holidays, birthdays. I know how to handle them now, but they’re going to suck.

If you read this, thank you. If you understand, thank you even more.

-The Novice Wordsmith