Coffee gives me the adrenaline needed to jump into things without taking too long to think about doing them or not. But if I don’t manage that energy well (to focus it on what I need) it tends to quickly fade into frantic distractions.
There is also the unconscious drive of a personal demand to write something that meets expectations (unconscious expectations as well) of achieving something meaningful, rhythmic and with a forceful ending. These are processes that do not allow the free and natural flow of creativity.
I stop.
I laugh at myself. I take my mustache with my fingers and twist it. What am I writing? I want to talk about Don Quixote, about his incomparable style and narrative, about his constant reference to the author, and to literature itself. A literature that is conscious of itself. The observer who is observed and who becomes aware of the act of self-observation.
I have just seen the Orson Welles film version, in which he uses a similar resource: we see him wandering around Spain documenting, with a hand held camera, the lives of its inhabitants. In the course of his work he meets a strange man dressed in knightly fashion who, inspired by medieval stories, decides to go in search of adventure.
In the shots we can see Orson during the production while we hear his reflections on the events of Don Quixote. A story within a story, which in turn contains another.
On his novel Cervantes writes about how he found the manuscript of a certain Cide Hamete Benengeli that recounts the adventures of an old man, who reads about knights errants. But Orson’s documentary pretends to bring the same story to contemporary times.
I write this. On the other side there you are reading, and writing in your memory. It is only your reading that makes this story able to continue and exist.
An old man inspired by the numerous books of knights errant decides to become one … even if the times are no longer those of the Middle Ages.
We read about the Middle Ages through a character who does not belong to it.
Returning to my reality I reflect on how these things could help me in my work:
When I am at a party I tend to speak very little, I am more of those who listen and observe. If I like the music (which has to be rock or alternative) enough I would dance, but that hardly happens.
In recent years I have grown tired of listening. Normally I always listen. But now I feel a lot of resistance to doing so, unless it’s someone who really brings me something that feeds my spirit.
All of this comes from my lack of balance. I mean the natural process of dialogue: one talks about something that matters and then listens to his counterpart. And so it goes on exchanging energies and thoughts: feedback. But what commonly happens to me is that by not discharging, when I listen to someone I end up overloaded.
As I write, I realize that this is the channel through which I can share things that would not necessarily be of interest to those I meet in the casual places of life.
Writing about the topics that I am passionate about without thinking about external interests is an act of fidelity to myself.
I like to tell stories but I almost never do it out loud, because I feel that there are a very a few with a true listening attitude that take such themes as the perception of time, existence and dreams seriusly.
I think that deep down everything is a story. It is the only way that the human being has found to give meaning to life. This is very much reflected in my paintings.
That is to say … recreate reality to make sense of it.
I tend to quickly lose confidence in what I am saying for example: when I perceive a hint of distraction in my interlocutor. Usually this happens within the first 10 words; my voice begins to lose the little force with which the story began until finally it is lost and forgotten.
There is an internal mechanism that is responsible for this: if after the first sign of distraction my interlocutor does not ask me a question that shows interest, I note his indisposition and decide to shut up completely.
What this mechanism seeks is to make me believe uninteresting. And it succeeds because then I think that my own story is not worth getting excited about. The lack of enthusiasm for its own story makes any storyteller boring.
I could cease to exist and it would make no difference.
I am on the process of writing a story where some dark entities seek to boycott and prevent beings of light from fulfilling their dreams. These entities create such mechanisms.
Parties are almost always the least suitable place to treat any subject seriously, since the intrinsic objective is to have fun. Sometimes I have a hard time telling something when I think that the condition to be heard is to entertain people.
I think that deep down the solution is not to take myself so seriously: to be able to share and participate in the moment. Paying attention to myself and savoring each of my words is the key to being able to tell something. It is necessary first to feel it to be able to transmit it.
It’s what I like about Don Quixote: he doesn’t stop to see if others are having fun around him, nor does he care if they believe him or not. He doesn’t look at himself from the outside, he wont allow the boycott. And it is that very powerful conviction of him that makes those who initially took him crazy, end up being part of his game. We all want to feel excited, live intensely. Any opportunity is good, even if it comes from someone who, at first glance, looks like just a madman.
The beauty of telling a story is not just being heard or feeling understood (which is still important). The main thing is to tell it for the sake of living again. Let a world sprout from words! The narrator’s ability to marvel at this act is what attracts the attention of others. That is … its intention is not to attract, but to be ignited with the flame of the story. The attraction happens in addition.
Stories produce longings for life. That is why Don Quixote inspires us to go out in search of adventure, as did the knights who inspired him.
What confused me when telling my stories was the lack of attention I perceived in others, but now I understand that one does not do it to attract attention. The telling is mainly to be able to feel again and through this living example, it is that others want to participate in that life.
This is something I have long forgotten and have only recently rediscovered.
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