Do Our Words Reflect Our True Selves?

After All I Did Believe - work in progress

I have been thinking a lot lately about my words: the words that I type here on this blog, the words I speak aloud to myself and to friends, the words that I use in my paintings, and the voice and person that is attached to those words.  I come back again and again to this thought: do my words accurately reflect who I am? are my thoughts true and authentic? am I the person, my words represent, and how I can I do a better job crafting my thoughts to best put forward my experiences and ideas?

I have often found that blogging, at best, can be an awkward experience for me. I started this blog to be able to communicate with some of the bloggers that I had been commenting and having e-mail correspondence with, so that I could share some of myself with them. It was less about growing any kind of business as an artist, and more about delving into a community that went beyond my local experience and broadened my interactions and growing friendships. The awkwardness, I think, comes in when I can't hear someone's actual voice, and they can't hear mine.  So much of human communication and interaction is about tone and timbre of voice, facial expression, and body language and all those things can get lost in a written communication. And so in this blog medium I have sometimes found myself feeling deaf and unskilled at "listening" to someone else's written word, as well as mute and unable to communicate my own thoughts.

And so I come back again to the word of the year for me: Authenticity. [NOTE: I find it highly amusing that I chose for myself the word "balance" as my word for 2008, and  yet, this whole year I have been talking about authenticity.]  In the last year I have been lucky enough to meet some of the people who I so admire and whose words so deeply speak to me through their blogs. And sometimes when meeting these people in "real" life, I have found myself wondering a couple of things (no direct responses to this are needed, these are just some inner thoughts): Does my voice reflects the person that people meet, as I feel the majority of theirs have? and how do I stay authentic and real in the moment?

Then, my mind meanders to another thought: what do people look for in the blogs they read? what makes them feel a connection, or a thread of understanding? On one level, we all are writing about ideas or events that are important or meaningful for us, sharing some of the stories of our lives, and sharing images of our work, and photos of moments in our lives. On another level, we are reaching out for connection, and community and an opportunity to share this human experience with others, on whatever level we are experiencing it. 

I have found that I am most interested in reading creative/art/craft/design blogs (those are just the genres I gravitate towards) that speak about the writers experience, the writers thoughts. Delving deeply into an experience - good or bad - and ladling up conclusions, new understandings, more questions or that ever elusive a-ha moment; just like we would dip our spoons into a beautiful bowl of steaming soup and bring up a potato, some corn and a perfectly stewed piece of chicken all in one spoonful. For me, there is something so completely rich and moving and heart-stirring in reading someone's deepest, truest words and feeling that kinship of experience or of confusion or of flat out joy.

I realise now, after starting this blog for contact and community, that my other hope is to improve my writing skills, hone them like a beautifully polished piece of black walnut, glaze them with the perfect ceramic patina, and paint them in all the colours of an authentic and truthful palette. 

A writing teacher of mine in college used to quote some long dead writer: "We are our words", or something to that effect. At the time I didn't think about that statement one way or the other, I just thought: huh, that's cool; as only a nineteen-something can, and moved on to working on whatever I was writing at the time. 

Now, I think back and say outloud to myself: Yes. 

We truly are our words. 

The way we each string together a sentence to describe our world at any given moment is unique to us. Isn't that the most beautiful thing? Only you can describe the same tree that 5 other people might be describing, in your unique way. So much of our daily worlds and our culture are about artifice and what looks good on the outside, and what will sell, and what will look perfect; but to live a life built on words and thoughts and ideas that are truly ours, that help to describe and create an authentic life, however flawed and difficult, now that helps me breathe so much easier, so much deeper, and I can begin to smell the lavender out in the garden and the crackly, moist scent of autumn on the breeze.

So this is my manifesto to my writing/blogging self, to my whole self really: To keep growing an Authentic Voice, to dip my spoon ever deeper into the bowl and maybe find a few peas to surprise myself with, and so that my words can describe a true self, and a true life. 

Comments

[megg]

What a wonderful post! What a great blog! I haven't been here before, but I followed you back from a comment somewhere else to meet you and I am so glad I did. I really loved this post. There has been a lot of stuff lately in blog land about posting and popularity and such and I am so happy to read a post about the personal reasons for writing. Thank you! I'm going to go poke around your archives for a bit. It is very nice to meet you!

[jess gonacha]

Oh Liz, this post is incredible. I love how you wrote about 5 people describing the same tree, but only you will describe it the way that you will. We are each so unique-- it's easy to forget that. Thank you for the reminder, and I'm so glad I popped over to read your words! They are just what I needed to hear. :)

[Swirly]

Oh I love this!! Especially your point about sharing what is real, even the less pleasant parts. We see - and are pressured by - "perfection" everywhere in the media. I'm not interested in perfection, I am interested in the scratches and dents and potholes. That's where all the good stuff is.

[Niya Sisk]

This is beautiful Lizzie.
What I look for in the community of blogs is exactly this; exactly what you offer so eloquently here. A very honest probing, seeing and etching the outlines of human vulnerability as you have done...which in turn makes me feel more human and connected. Bravo. This is very moving. Love you. Niya

[Gypsy Alex]

This is a gorgeous post, Liz. Words. I'll have to spend some time with yours and mine too... So true. xo