An excuse to write

Today I have a case of blogger's block. Very simply put, I don't know what to write about. So perhaps I'll write about that - writing.

I'm not going to write about the history of writing, the writing of literature or even the systems of writing. Wikipedia was made for that. I'm going to talk about what writing means to someone who writes.

It's an art. Above all other characteristics that make something artistic, such as interpretation, the ability to communicate or express, or even that subtle enigmatic quality of inherent beauty that is common to all art, personally I believe it is an art because it is something that you cannot do all the time. A painter may paint, a musician may compose, and a writer may write. But the product itself is not always the same. It's quality ebbs and twists subject to the inspiration of the artist. Sometimes the muse is playing and the hand moves as if of its own accord, the person seeming to be no more than a spectator in the birth of something truly remarkable before him. Other times it is as if one doesn't know how to operate his or her own thumb, almost as if it were a new acquaintance. It's not on. It's not happening. You have yourself a firm, rude, mocking block. And it is frustrating.

Yet if it were not so I wonder if we would treasure art for what it is. Surely the qualities mentioned above, the emotional implications and delicate statements art can make give it more value than pearls and trinkets. Yet this fleeting feature to it, that it is rare, here and then gone, is what I believe makes it precious. If every time we were to hear a person play the piano it would, without fail, be a masterpiece, then just as surely as the value of currency it would depreciate to nothing more than a common-day thing. Moreover, we would most likely be upset if it were not so, stamping our feet and pacing in outrage. No? Think about computers. I have a Dell PC at home that I've had for almost eight years now. Until not long ago it was still my main hardware at home. It took roughly half an hour to be able to operate after being switched on because of all the painstaking loading of programmes it had to do. If I tried to run more than three programmes at the same time it would slow down to the pace of a very indecisive sloth. If I dared to have a wind filter coming in from the right on Photoshop as opposed to from the default left, it would have a heart attack and the program would freeze. It was below par. And it frustrated me. Now imagine dancers were like PC's. To a great degree the industry already treats all manner of artists in such a light, pushing them to be the best and create the best in order to make the final cut. But what if you or I, the average Joe, had to be so very critical? If every wrong note or misplaced brushstroke, or, dare I say it, the occasional misuse of syntax, provoked the same response as a desktop that just took too long to load?

Perhaps I have gone off point. Perhaps I never had one to begin with. But, if you have made it this far, leave with at least one sentiment in mind. That at its core art isn't really about the product. Like life, it's about the journey, both of the artist and the beholder. It provokes thought, emotion and reflection. It provokes change. And in the end, it transforms something small and rudimentary into something meaningful.

THE GREATEST ART from Hillsong Church on Vimeo.