Gustave Doré:
Daniel interpreting the writing on the wall (1866)

The Mysteries Will Prevail
I tell myself I keep moving forward but cannot honestly tell. I lack the perspective to determine. I follow my established as well as emerging rituals, wondering where all this might be leading while simultaneously convinced that I know full well where I'm headed. Writing seems to be one of those skills where, to be successful, one must never know before finishing. That not knowing might serve as the absolutely necessary predicate to achieving. One comes to know without knowing beforehand. The initial innocence and ignorance serve as essential leverage. No reader needs to understand any of this. In fact, the reader's experience might be improved by their misconceptions of what authorship entails. It involves much speculation and ritual with a pinch of discovery mixed in. Some weeks prove more enlightening than others. Some prove stellar. There's never any predicting except that the mysteries will prevail; there will never be any vanquishing them.

Weekly Writing Summary

I began my writing week in an internal conversation with the deafened in iAloguingWithTheDeafened. "If I didn't know better—and I might not know better—I'd insist there's a vast and insidious conspiracy against anyone even attempting to hear themself think, just as if they considered that sort of thing dangerous and to be dissuaded at every turn. "

Will Hicock Low: Deafening the Swallows’ Twitter, Came a Thrill of Trumpets (1885)

" … a halfway decent conversation with myself."
—
I continued my writing week realizing that Christmas gift-giving like my annual PoemCycling, might inevitably induce some misery in the gift giver. "Giving gifts might naturally be an unpleasant experience for which merely changing tactics resolves nothing. It just displaces the native misery into another medium."

Tosa Mitsuoki:
Autumn Maples with Poem Slips (c. 1675)

"I suspect Santa experiences a similar reveal …"
—
I next dabbled in what I referred to as indefinite and InfiniteSets. "We not only lack focus, but we also lack the context capable of supporting focus, so we're probably destined to continue hunting and pecking."

Hakuin Ekaku 白隠慧鶴:
Poem on Meditation [Poem about Snow]
(Edo period, 1615-1868)

"I carry on these internal dialogues as if they might prove helpful."
—
I investigated my addiction to Epiphany, the promise of which gets me up every morning. "Epiphany changes trajectories. It's the part omitted from the grand plan that reliably transforms what was planned into what actually happened."

Paul Cézanne: Jules Peyron (c. 1885-1887)

"There will always be the before and then the ever after …"
—
Following the holiday, I stumbled into the usual aftermath, Holidayed. "I miss the days haunted by my self-imposed deadline. I pine after the annual search for citron and goose."

Unknown: Puzzle jug (c. 1750)

"The chestnuts, alas, were inedible after roasting."
—
I introduced myself, my iAlogue, in terms of my ongoing *SelfTalk, positive, negative, and neutral. This story turned out to be the most popular one this period. "My nightmare might lurk where I bombard myself with negative SelfTalk when I catch myself not bombarding myself with positive, the really-should-otta chastising talk that seems unlikely to encourage much of any positive response."

Edvard Munch: Self-Portrait in Moonlight (1904–06)

"I might one day learn just to appreciate its presence…"
—
I ended this writing week explaining why I tend to be such a hard sell in TalkingMyselfInto. "Only I understand how to coax the scared little man who has to understand before an agreement can be reached. Just so you know: only I have requisite experience influencing him."

David Deuchar:
Man Wearing an Apron, Talking with a Boy
(18th-19th century)

" … I just have to try your patience first."
—

The weeks including Christmases always prove revelatory for me, though I mainly realize stuff I've realized before. The reason, perhaps, that the seasons cycle endlessly through might be our tendency to need to re-remember more than we need to discover. I seem to discover in a flash and forget even more quickly and insidiously than that. Re-remembering often proves the more satisfying experience, like coming home for Christmas. Every year, I re-engage in my same PoemCycling with more or less the same misgivings, wallow within another of my perfectly seasonal InfiniteSets, only to experience another in my long series of annual Epiphanies just in time for Christmas. This might be self-induced experience aided by the repeating context, reliably resulting in another short-lived bout with feeling Holidayed. I recover through my usual SelfTalk before TalkingMyselfInto a follow-on chapter, restarting my annual cycle again. Despite or because of this repeating pattern, I experience a distinct sense of moving forward. Thank you for following along, and Happy New Year and Happy Restart Of The Cycle!

©2023 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #iAlogue , #PureSchmaltz