I’ve just added a new artist’s statement of sorts, though unlike most such documents it focuses less on what I’m making and why, and more on how I’m making it. Perhaps it’s really more of an apologia. In the top navigation bar, it’s a drop-down link under the About Me page. Here’s how it starts:
My approach to writing focuses neither on product nor on process but on daily practice. What am I going to make today? What am I going to do right now? Is re-writing yesterday’s effort ever as important as going for a walk or reading a book to prime the creative pump anew?
I go on to argue for the vitality of the quotidian, admit to the addictive nature of creative immersion, mention that making poetry entails more than just writing for me, and conclude with some thoughts about why blogging has become so central to all this. Check it out (and if you have any feedback, feel free to comment on this post or drop me a line).
While searching for information on the old Tyrone quarry I came upon your blog (again). Thinking about the “dailiness” of blogging and how it informs a creative process is the best explanation of why I’ve invested so much time with a blog myself. It earns no income and I sell no products, but it pays dividends in unveiling a bit of the truth of my existence. And helped me see why I can walk (or ride) the same places a few miles from my home and never see it all.
Anyways, thanks for sharing your process. I’ll have to spend more time with it to fully appreciate.
On a side note — we met years ago at your parents home. Sometime in the 1980s I think. I was videotaping an interview with your mother and father for a Penn State program (on stewardship perhaps). I remember your father driving us to the far end of the property to witness a field full of butterflies. I think of that often.
And your mom told us you and your brother would walk down the road to catch the train to parts unknown. For as remote as the place seemed I was enthralled by the idea of just jumping on the train like I did with a bus growing up near Pittsburgh.
Thanks again for sharing on your blog.
steve
Hi Steve, thanks for commenting. I’ll have to ask my mom next time Isee her whether she remembers you — I’ll bet she does! Yes, we still catch the train from Tyrone, and I’ve just booked a Greyhound ticket back into Tyrone (I’m in the UK right now) so Plummer’s Hollow is still connected to the larger world in that way. At any rate, glad you found my post of interest, and congrats on your own fine-looking blog. Always good to meet another local who has caught the blogging bug.