This week I’m definitely thinking about the Why I Write project the most. Most evident, I’m thinking about why I write. But I’m also thinking about the position the assignment has put me in, in general.
Not only do I have to consider why I write, I have to write about it. My ideas about the purpose of my writing are being formed and organized in writing. I find myself in a weird, almost self-aware, position where I’m using writing to figure out why I write in the first place. It’s a question I didn’t really think about until we read the pieces by Orwell and Didion. They both discussed why they write, which seemed to me to be rational and for a good purpose. They are both respected and accomplished writers, so it makes sense to me why they would explain what they think their purpose is. It feels strange for me to explain why I write in their company.
And now, this blog post prompt is asking me to write about thinking about writing about why I write. I feel like I’m in a cyclic motion of thinking and writing, then thinking about why I’m writing and writing about what I’m thinking. It’s a complex situation that all feeds into itself, fueling a hyper conscious project. I can’t think of another situation that would be like this. I can’t create a math problem about thinking about math. I suppose I could draw or paint a piece about drawing or painting, but I don’t think it would be the same. I don’t think it would be possible to visually represent the levels of thought/writing/writing about thought/thought about writing, that exists in this project and this post. It would be too complicated to visually represent, and would probably require something written to explain it.
I think that I’m enjoying the position I’m in; it’s forcing me to think and consider things on a deeper level than I even have before. But at the same time it’s a little frustrating. It’s difficult to start writing about why I write when I don’t really know how to explain it. I don’t even know if I’m explaining it well now. I’m writing to figure out my writing. This project has kind of taken on a life of its own. Is it determining itself? Is it influencing me more than I;m influencing it? Am I thinking about it way too much? Probably a combination of all of the above, and some things I can’t even imagine.