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writing is based first and foremost on an idea. and ideas are nothing without the seeds of emotion. emotion like pollen transplanted from person to person by the dancing feet of a bee of happenstance. a miraculous element one part independent and utterly necessary. of impulse forcing outer circumstance and inner conditionings to collide on some platform of decrepit or evolved. emotion, that is. tempered perhaps by studied logic, or scriptural injunction. no, not blind and sentimental religion. but intelligent and divine law. i can hear the thinking man scoff. or the emotional woman nod in rapt agreement. both are, for lack of a better word, wrong. man is a thing of reason. of potential to calculate and rise above by sheer will. but alas, not for long. for along came woman. woman is a thing of feeling. of intuitive curves interrupted by skeptical seeking. or of darkness expressed beside the point, expressed to bring to light what we all sense is there, but who's got balls big enough to say it? so what if the timing is wrong. there are emotional men and rational women. and there are times when we'll all fall into line with a camp, regardless of gender. be it to keep the peace, to strategize, to declare, silently, a kind of psychological warfare. to win. to let others think they win. to learn. to teach. where man and woman collide, be that softly, ferociously, unexpectedly, psychically; there emotion and idea come together. there we have writing in motion. drama alive.

writing is nothing without an idea. and any shmo can have an idea. so writing is certainly more than an idea. it's the ability to toe the fine line of pretending you know what you're doing as you walk down the highway into the unknown. with only a name on a piece of paper. or a page out of the phone book. or a terrifyingly inspiring dream. be it generated by the day or night. assuming, of course, that said highway is on a strech of desertland and the payphone you took shelter in at the truck stop housed a phone book. there are still places in america that use phone books. there must be.

the details. the unexpected. the juxtaposition. the allowing for someone else to show it for you. the use of a middle man in the pursuit of direct experience. the subtle worship of contradiction in order to maintain wholeness. the inconceivable oneness and difference. the painting of pictures within pictures as you paint a picture of a picture you're painting. the pretending you know what you're doing off of feeling while groping blindly just like everyone else. the confidence of well-placed lies. the weakness of self-sustaining truth. the expert who has compromised the unknown to serve those who have compromised structure for the unknown. the complementary and the questioning. the fragmented adapting to serve some ideal of whole. holiness.

the breakdown. the build up. the background track. the improv.

the next generation of repetition. in new! colors.

generated by a vision seen in sound, in listening. writing is listening to the same thing, and hearing something new. maybe even like you know what it means.