Tag: Any Writing Is Experimental

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In the Zone, by Betsy

As one member of this group has mentioned, Mozart may be an exception to the statement “any writing is experimental.” True, Mozart was writing music not words. But there is no reason that the statement which is today’s topic cannot apply to the writing of music as well as the writing of words. Mr. Mozart is said to have been divinely inspired never having to go back over his work to correct or improve it. His writing was perfect the first try. Some might say he was continually “in the zone” at least when he was writing music.

It’s hard for me to relate to always being in the zone when I am writing. Although, I must say, some writings have come a lot easier to me than others. On occasion, depending on the topic and/or depending on my state of consciousness, I have felt myself “in the zone” as I was writing. Mostly, it is the experiences I have had that have given me awareness or knowledge which make it possible to be there. Being in the zone could be equated with being mindful—a state of complete awareness. Also a requirement for being in the zone when writing might be an element of passion for the subject and a clarity of one’s feelings about it.

I best relate to being in the zone when I am immersed in a sports activity. Some days—though they may be rare—it’s as if you can’t make a mistake in a tennis game. Or the body flows particularly easily, gently and rhythmically through the moguls on the ski slope. Those days might be rare, but we remember them—at least I do. Probably the sun is shining as well on that day, and there is little or no wind and the temperature is just right for perfect conditions.

I can recall also being in the zone in a beautiful spot surrounded by nature—feeling part of nature or one with one’s natural surroundings. Being in the zone and being completely immersed in the moment, I believe, are one and the same thing.

As for being an experiment, I’m quite sure writing falls into that category. I often set out to write about something related to the topic of the day and I find I am completely surprised at the outcome of that writing. The piece may take a totally different tack than what I had first intended.

This can apply to other art forms as well. I have attempted to draw or paint an object, a landscape, a tree or what have you. In this case I know when I start out that it is an experiment.

I have no idea how the project will turn out. I suppose that’s because I have very little experience in creating visual arts, and almost no confidence. Yet I find that to draw a tree or paint, even try to copy an object or a landscape is an adventure, and most certainly an experiment. I start out with no idea where the effort will take me, how I will feel about it, or what the outcome will be—other than either boosting my confidence or totally obliterating what little bit I had to start with.

The fact is that most active things we do—that is active vs. passive—most things we do are an experiment. Even everyday activities. That is, if we define an experiment as a course of action taken and followed without knowing the outcome. Cooking certainly can fall into that category—at least MY cooking does. Even the laundry, shopping, etc. What the heck, which outcomes CAN I be sure of. Even when I sit down to watch television who knows, (I certainly don’t)—who knows how long I will be awake.

© 24 July 2015

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver Women’s Chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change), and the GLBT Community Center. She has been retired from the human services field for 20 years. Since her retirement, her major activities have included tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with the National Sports Center for the Disabled, reading, writing, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 30 years, Gillian Edwards.

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Any Writing Is Experimental (Attack of the Giant Cootie), by Ricky

As
one of our group members stated in his writing to this topic, “all writing is
experimental.”  The Muse finally struck
me upside my head and so, what follows is her experimental writing.  She hopes you will find this, amuseing as this story is based on an
actual event I witnessed while my family was visiting a close friend in Tucson
a few years back.
Attack of the Giant Cootie
“Daaaad!
Someone just drove into our driveway.”[I wonder who that could
be.]
“That’s
my friend Rick and his family.  They’re
from South Dakota.”    [He doesn’t like to meet strangers so I
didn’t tell him to forestall any whining.]  “Didn’t I tell you they were coming for
dinner?”
“No you
didn’t.”  [I don’t like to meet strangers.  That’s probably why he didn’t tell me.]
“Don’t
worry son.  This fact is
interesting.  We have two boys, a girl,
and another boy in our family.  They have
two girls, a boy, and another girl in their family.  The oldest girl is your age—10.”  [Hmmmmm. 
Wouldn’t it be interesting if their girls married our boys and their boy
married our girl?]
“Yuck!  Girls! 
I’ll get cooties and they only play with dolls and dress up.  I hate that stuff.”[I
am going to be sooooo bored.  I need to
find a hiding place until they’re gone — even if I miss dinner!”]
“You’ll
be fine.  Don’t make a fuss, and make them
feel welcome.”  [Just
don’t embarrass me in front of Rick.]
“Will
they be staying the night? 
[I’m not sleeping on the couch or floor so THEY can use MY bed.]
[Silly question.  We don’t have room for 8 kids and 4 adults.] “No.  Just for a
visit and for dinner.”
“Ok
Dad.  I’ll be good.  Wait! 
Is that their oldest daughter? 
She’s huge!”  [A
giant cootie.]
“Yes.  That’s her.  She is rather tall for a 10-year old.  Her mother told me that she is as far above
the normal growth curve for girls as a girl’s normal growth curve is above a
boy’s normal growth curve.  Since you’re
short for your age she will appear quite large next to you.  But, she is also a tomboy, so she’ll probably
like the same things you do.” 
[I hope they get along.  I can’t
stand it when he whines about anything.]
“Yeah,
but her size bothers me and she still has cooties.”  [What’s a tomboy?]
“Now
listen!  These are my friends and I
expect you to be nice.” 
[I hope he obeys me this once.]
“Okay,
I’ll do my best.”  [Dad
can’t see that I have my fingers crossed behind my back].
“Uncross
your fingers and let’s go meet our guests.”
…..
“Glad to
meet you too, Mr. Dawson.”  [What
happened?  He shook my hand then my tummy
feels funny and it’s harder to breath.  Why
do I feel this way?]
“Nice to
meet you, Mrs. Dawson.”  [I like her smile.  She seems friendly enough.]
“Hi.”  [Ugh!  I’m shaking hands with a giant cootie.  If she were any taller my neck would break
from looking up at her.  I gotta get away
from her and wash my hands.  I think I
might pass out.]
“Are you
okay?”
 [He looks pale like he’s going to
faint.]
“Excuse
me; I need to use the bathroom.”  [She
sounds sincere, but…]
“Are you
okay, son?”  [I
hope he’s not getting sick.  He looks
pale like he might pass out.]
“Yeah
Dad.  I’m okay.”  [Just a few more feet to safety. Okay. I’m
locked in the bathroom.  I’m safe.  Just splash a little cold water on my
face.  Ahhhh that feels good.  I’m breathing easier.  A bit more water should do it.  Oh yeah. 
Now I can breathe okay.  Even my
tummy is feeling better but is a bit tingly. 
I wonder what happened.  It
started when I shook hands with Mr. Dawson. 
Why did that make me feel funny and not be able to breathe easy?  Did the giant cootie have anything to do with
it?  Did she make it worse?  Uh oh. 
It’s all starting again.  Maybe
more water in my face…Yeah.  That’s
better.  Mr. Dawson is a good looking
man.  Oh no.  Here it comes again.  I need more water.  Ahhhhh.  That did it. 
I’m alright again.  I guess I
should not think about Mr. Dawson.  Oops.  More water. 
Who’s that knocking on the door?]
“Are you
okay in there, son?”  [I
wonder what’s taking so long.  Maybe I
should have THAT talk with him after our guests have gone.]
‘Yeah,
Dad.  I’ll be out in a minute.”  [Out,
but hiding somewhere else in the house.]
…..
[Ahhhh.  They’re all in the livingroom.  I promised dad to be good and make them feel
welcome so I can’t hide in my bedroom they’ll find me and dad will be
angry.  Where can I hide?  Hmmmmm. 
The kitchen? No, it’s too open. 
The hallway?  No, that’s even more
open dummy.  The closet?  No, I’m already in there.  The attic? 
That’s dumb.  We’ve been told to
stay out of there because of the spiders. 
I hate spiders worse than cooties. 
I know!  I’ll hide under the
dining room table.  That way I can hear
the conversation in the livingroom but not be seen so if I’m questioned later I
will know what was said.  Yeah, that’s a
great plan.  I’ll just crawl under the
end nearest the window and they won’t be able to see me from the livingroom or
the kitchen.  Owww!  Gotta remember not to raise my head too much
or I’ll hit the table again.  Now, I’ll
just relax and wait.]
“Hi
whatcha doing under there?”  [Is he
playing at being a spy?]
“Owww!  Just looking for a nickel I dropped.”  [How did she find me?]
“Oh.  Sorry I startled you.  Do you want me to help look for it?”
“No.  I just found it.”  [Lucky for me there really is a nickel
under here.]  “Owww!” [Dang it!]
“Did you
bump your head again?”  [What
a klutz]  “Your name is Jason, right?”
[Why is she standing so
close to me?  I’ll get big cooties.]  “Yes.  And your name is Suzie.”  [’ll just backup a step to get more
space between us.]
 “No, my name is Susan. 
No one calls me ‘Suzie’ except my grandmother.”  [Why is he backing up?  Is he going somewhere?  I’ll just follow him.] 
  “Oh, sorry.  Are you
really only 10 years old?”  [She’s
coming closer.  Danger! Danger, Will
Robinson!    I’m being attacked by a giant cootie.  I’m going to backup two steps this time.]
“Yes just
turned ten last November.  I’m very tall
for my age.”  [There he goes again.  I’ll just follow his lead.  My dad said not to make fun of his size but
I want him to say it before I believe it.]  “Are you really 10,
because you look younger?”
[She’s closing in for the
kill.]  “Yes I’m 10 and I can’t help that I’m short for my age
right now.  Dad says that I’ll grow like
a weed in a year or two.  I can’t wait
for it to happen.”  [Okay
this time back up THREE steps.]
[Wow.  He sounded irritated by my question.]  “Do you get picked on
by bigger boys?”
 “Yes I do.”  [I
move back THREE steps and she follows keeping one foot between us.  She is scaring me.  I’ll back around the table this time.]
[He’s backing away again
like he’s afraid of me.]  “Well, in my class, I don’t let any of the bigger
boys pick on anyone.  When they tried, I
made them back down.  If you were in my
class, I would protect you from them.”  [I
like this little guy.]
[I like her attitude but…] “If you did that, it would be worse for me after
school.  The bullies would pick on me
even more whenever you were not around.”  [Ooops.  The wall is at my back.  I can’t back up any further.  What can I do?  Wait. 
There’s a chair.  I’ll drag it
over here and stand on it.]
[Now what’s he up too?  Standing on a chair so he becomes taller than
me?  Because I’m so tall does he think I am
going to pick on him?]  “At recess at my school, I play baseball, football, and
basketball.  Do you play any of those?”
[She likes sports?  Weird.]  “I’m too small to be much good at any of them but I do like
to play them.  Do you want to go into the
backyard and play catch?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll go
get my glove and ball and another glove for you too.”
…..
“Well son
they’re all gone now.  What did you think
of them?”
“I liked
the family.”
“The whole
family or just Susan?”
“All of
them.  You were right, Dad.  Susan was okay and does like the things I
like.  We played catch and other games.”
“And what
about the cooties?”
“Well.  Susan is okay, but all other girls have
cooties.”
“Even
your sister?”
“No.  She is okay too.  But all the others DO have cooties.”
“Hold
that thought, son; at least until you are 18.”
© 7
September 2015 
About the
Author 
I was born in June of 1948 in Los Angeles, living first in Lawndale
and then in Redondo Beach.  Just prior to
turning 8 years old in 1956, I was sent to live with my grandparents on their
farm in Isanti County, Minnesota for two years during which time my parents
divorced.
When united with my mother and stepfather two years later
in 1958, I lived first at Emerald Bay and then at South Lake Tahoe, California,
graduating from South Tahoe High School in 1966.  After three tours of duty with the Air Force,
I moved to Denver, Colorado where I lived with my wife and four children until
her passing away from complications of breast cancer four days after the 9-11-2001
terrorist attack.
I came out as a gay man in the summer of 2010.   I find writing these memories to be
therapeutic.
My story blog is, TheTahoeBoy.Blogspot.com.
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Any Writing is Experimental, by Will Stanton

Any
writing, especially when one first endeavors to write, is experimental.  This is particularly true for those not well
versed or prone to writing.  As one
becomes more accomplished, the need for experimentation is reduced but rarely
eliminated.
The
primary function of writing (and speaking, for that matter) is to communicate
clearly, conveying accurately what is meant to be said.  If that is achieved, the secondary
consideration is to communicate in an engaging manner through a good command of
language and perhaps, when appropriate, with humor.
The
main advantage of writing, versus attempting to speak extemporaneously, is one
is given the chance, in advance of presentation, to organize one’s thoughts and
words.  In that way, the presenter has a
good chance of eliminating pauses or non-verbal utterances while searching for
the next thing to say.  This also
prevents one from repeating or wandering astray onto unrelated and unnecessary
sidetracks.  The presenter also has the
advantage of not droning on, losing the main point or topic meant to be
conveyed and, consequently, driving the listeners to distraction.  The presentation should be no more nor less
than required.
A
colleague of mine, Dr. Hughes, made an in-depth study of well-known
speakers.  He concluded that the most
effective, extemporaneous speaker was, unfortunately, Adolf Hitler.  Winston Churchill found it impossible.  He had to write and re-write his speeches and
then practice them until he felt comfortable presenting them.
Over
the years, I regularly was required to speak extemporaneously in my
therapeutic-group sessions, in lectures regarding some of my other interests,
and even, for fun, spontaneously creating and relating stories.  Apparently, I’ve inherited a modicum of
verbal skills.
I
still find, however, reviewing and fine-tuning early drafts beneficial.  The main reason is that imagery and memories
are clear to me, yet they may not be clear to listeners unless I make sure that
I express them clearly.  As a
consequence, I always begin early thinking through and writing about a topic,
rather than waiting to the last moment or, perhaps, not writing at all.
I
am aware of only one super-genius who never had to rethink or revise what he
wrote, and that was the superlative composer Mozart.  He could perform one of his piano concertos,
then at the same time compose another in his head, and finally, upon returning
home, set the new concerto down on paper without a single change or
correction.  Obviously, that skill is
astonishing.  Most of us, however, are
not so astonishing, and experimenting with our writing still is required.
© 14 July 2015 
About the Author 
I have had a life-long fascination with
people and their life stories.  I also
realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or
fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual
ones.  Since I joined this Story Time
group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group.  I do put some thought and effort into my
stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.
Posted on

In the Zone, by Betsy

As one member of this group has mentioned, Mozart may be an exception to the statement “any writing is experimental.” True, Mozart was writing music not words. But there is no reason that the statement which is today’s topic cannot apply to the writing of music as well as the writing of words. Mr. Mozart is said to have been divinely inspired never having to go back over his work to correct or improve it. His writing was perfect the first try. Some might say he was continually “in the zone” at least when he was writing music.

It’s hard for me to relate to always being in the zone when I am writing. Although, I must say, some writings have come a lot easier to me than others. On occasion, depending on the topic and/or depending on my state of consciousness, I have felt myself “in the zone” as I was writing. Mostly, it is the experiences I have had that have given me awareness or knowledge which make it possible to be there. Being in the zone could be equated with being mindful—a state of complete awareness. Also a requirement for being in the zone when writing might be an element of passion for the subject and a clarity of one’s feelings about it.

I best relate to being in the zone when I am immersed in a sports activity. Some days—though they may be rare—it’s as if you can’t make a mistake in a tennis game. Or the body flows particularly easily, gently and rhythmically through the moguls on the ski slope. Those days might be rare, but we remember them—at least I do. Probably the sun is shining as well on that day, and there is little or no wind and the temperature is just right for perfect conditions.

I can recall also being in the zone in a beautiful spot surrounded by nature—feeling part of nature or one with one’s natural surroundings. Being in the zone and being completely immersed in the moment, I believe, are one and the same thing.

As for being an experiment, I’m quite sure writing falls into that category. I often set out to write about something related to the topic of the day and I find I am completely surprised at the outcome of that writing. The piece may take a totally different tack than what I had first intended.

This can apply to other art forms as well. I have attempted to draw or paint an object, a landscape, a tree or what have you. In this case I know when I start out that it is an experiment.

I have no idea how the project will turn out. I suppose that’s because I have very little experience in creating visual arts, and almost no confidence. Yet I find that to draw a tree or paint, even try to copy an object or a landscape is an adventure, and most certainly an experiment. I start out with no idea where the effort will take me, how I will feel about it, or what the outcome will be—other than either boosting my confidence or totally obliterating what little bit I had to start with.

The fact is that most active things we do—that is active vs. passive—most things we do are an experiment. Even everyday activities. That is, if we define an experiment as a course of action taken and followed without knowing the outcome. Cooking certainly can fall into that category—at least MY cooking does. Even the laundry, shopping, etc. What the heck, which outcomes CAN I be sure of. Even when I sit down to watch television who knows, (I certainly don’t)—who knows how long I will be awake.

© 24 July 2015

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

Posted on

Life is Experimental!, by Pat Gourley

The title for today’s group was “Any Writing is Experimental”. I guess I would say to that I hope so. Something experimental is based on “untested ideas or techniques not yet established or finalized”. Any other writing would seem to be merely regurgitating someone else’s thoughts. I would though like to expand on this theme and say that all life is experimental, especially when it is queer.

Life is quite the dicey proposition when you think about it – you only get this one chance at it, the fanciful notion of reincarnation aside. It really is all about trial and error from start to finish.

We queers though are masters at experimentation since how we are predisposed to live our lives and grow and develop in ways not sanctioned by society as a whole. We really are constantly in a test drive mode especially in our first few decades. We have to experiment since we are not given any road map and in fact constantly have to re-evaluate, sometimes even withdraw and then come at it again from an angle often more suitable to survival. You really can’t ogle your young peers in the grade school locker room and proffer an innocent wink and get away with it.

I am not saying that growing up hetero is not without its fair share of experimentation but let’s face it they have many more societally sanctioned suggestions and institutional support on how to proceed. And this hetero support starts quite early in life where as we LGBT people often can’t find the support needed to validate our life’s experiments until we at least reach late adolescence and for many of us it comes even much later in life.

That really is the role (identity validation) of Queer Community Centers like the one we are in today and that would apply programmatically right down to this very group we are sitting in this afternoon. Our experimental and often very successful efforts at creating our own institutions, that foster and support gay identity, are really quite remarkable. These efforts are fostered and sustained by our individual coming out process and then the very altruistic pay back to help others along the path. And I would emphasize how truly grassroots they are with minimal outside support financial or otherwise.

Hopefully we will bring our true sense of experimentation to the institutions of marriage and the military, which we have recently gained some tentative access to. Both are sorely in need of all the queer sensibility we can muster and bring to them.

I would close with an anecdote that I think underscores my points here. Last week was the first time I ran into an old friend named Tom at this group. We frequently run into each other at the gym and have for decades. When we spoke mid-week last week at the “Y” he related to me the sense of deja-vu he had on seeing me here at Story Telling last Monday and it made him recall our first meeting 40 years ago. I was apparently the first or one of the first folks he spoke with when he walked into the Gay Community Center on Lafayette Street back in the mid-1970’s. Though he didn’t specifically say so I hope it was a pleasant recollection that brought back pleasant memories and not a dreadful sense of “boy, are we in a fucking rut”!

© July 2015

About the Author

I was born in La Porte, Indiana in 1949, raised on a farm and schooled by Holy Cross nuns. The bulk of my adult life, some 40 plus years, was spent in Denver, Colorado as a nurse, gardener and gay/AIDS activist. I have currently returned to Denver after an extended sabbatical in San Francisco, California.

Posted on

Any Writing is Experimental, by Will Stanton

Any
writing, especially when one first endeavors to write, is experimental.  This is particularly true for those not well
versed or prone to writing.  As one
becomes more accomplished, the need for experimentation is reduced but rarely
eliminated.
The
primary function of writing (and speaking, for that matter) is to communicate
clearly, conveying accurately what is meant to be said.  If that is achieved, the secondary
consideration is to communicate in an engaging manner through a good command of
language and perhaps, when appropriate, with humor.
The
main advantage of writing, versus attempting to speak extemporaneously, is one
is given the chance, in advance of presentation, to organize one’s thoughts and
words.  In that way, the presenter has a
good chance of eliminating pauses or non-verbal utterances while searching for
the next thing to say.  This also
prevents one from repeating or wandering astray onto unrelated and unnecessary
sidetracks.  The presenter also has the
advantage of not droning on, losing the main point or topic meant to be
conveyed and, consequently, driving the listeners to distraction.  The presentation should be no more nor less
than required.
A
colleague of mine, Dr. Hughes, made an in-depth study of well-known
speakers.  He concluded that the most
effective, extemporaneous speaker was, unfortunately, Adolf Hitler.  Winston Churchill found it impossible.  He had to write and re-write his speeches and
then practice them until he felt comfortable presenting them.
Over
the years, I regularly was required to speak extemporaneously in my
therapeutic-group sessions, in lectures regarding some of my other interests,
and even, for fun, spontaneously creating and relating stories.  Apparently, I’ve inherited a modicum of
verbal skills.
I
still find, however, reviewing and fine-tuning early drafts beneficial.  The main reason is that imagery and memories
are clear to me, yet they may not be clear to listeners unless I make sure that
I express them clearly.  As a
consequence, I always begin early thinking through and writing about a topic,
rather than waiting to the last moment or, perhaps, not writing at all.
I
am aware of only one super-genius who never had to rethink or revise what he
wrote, and that was the superlative composer Mozart.  He could perform one of his piano concertos,
then at the same time compose another in his head, and finally, upon returning
home, set the new concerto down on paper without a single change or
correction.  Obviously, that skill is
astonishing.  Most of us, however, are
not so astonishing, and experimenting with our writing still is required.
© 14 July 2015 
About the Author 
 I have had a life-long fascination with people
and their life stories.  I also realize
that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too
have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones.  Since I joined this Story Time group, I have
derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group.  I do put some thought and effort into my
stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.