Let's face it. For most, poetry is difficult to read. Those that appreciate it, even poets themselves, often prefer reading prose for pleasure at long stretches. Poetry, like bitter herbs, may be best taken in small quantities. The exception, perhaps, is verse poetry of the epic variety, in that it tells a story one can get wrapped up into in a pleasant way. That includes poetic screenplays, which are quite entertaining to read and tend to put one's mind in an oddly eloquent space.

It is my intention to move into consciously practicing and improving my prose-writing. I had contemplated keeping a separate blog for this, but think now it may be best to have both poetry and prose on one account. So, this is my good faith effort in beginning that momentum. Now, all I need is a subject to address. Thankfully in life, there are no shortages where that is concerned.

From the beginning, I created @d-pend to be a blog for my poetry experiment of writing one piece daily back in June 2017. I desired to determine, first and foremost, whether I couldn't make something of a decent poet of myself by devoting myself to that craft. I continued that approach for quite a long time, extending into blogging music once @dsound came into being (which by all rights ought to be my main art form, due to being the subject of my collegiate study.)

I also created a massive @steemitpoetry "100 Days of Poetry" writing challenge in early 2018, in which I found myself way over my head. Trying to do most of it myself, with the aid of a few curators, I became very burned out and was unable to see the project through to completion. I had been hoping at the time to get the support of some whales, and was disappointed to find what I perceived to be a general lack of interest on their part in promoting excellence in poetry on STEEM, being focused primarily on supporting cryptocurrency-related content.

2019 was a relatively quiet year for me on STEEM, and in poetry-writing, as well. I was engaged in trying to grow my YouTube channel with hopes of monetizing, which I eventually abandoned after becoming disillusioned about the nature of that platform. I also became disheartened about the value of my creations. Was there any point to even putting my heart and soul into such things? Were they mere indulgences, dabbling in many forms without mastering anything? Narcissistic, unrealistic stubbornness to not "get a real job" and do something "more productive?"

Recently, I read a blog by @rok-sivante entitled Why Write: Motivations & Addictions that, along with recent discussions with some dear friends, was a catalyst to continuing to think about why it is I love writing as an art form. I left a lengthy reply there, which I will reproduce now for convenience, with minor edits:

It often feels like writing is a form a therapy—a peculiar one, at that: unexpected, since we are not often taught to view it that way. In the process of attempting to make the inexplicable inner sensations tangible (and inevitably failing) perhaps we learn something about the operation of our psyche. Even, for fleeting moments, feel that we have transcended it and become something new in that feeling of discovery.

And then—there are those long, bleak periods where we think "What is there to say that hasn't been said, and even if there was, what does it matter? Will anyone read this? And even if they do, what is the point?" But, the memories of clairvoyant buoyancy that came, however infrequently, where between the words and the inner impetus there was a surging alignment—usually call us eventually to rouse ourselves out of the defeatist thinking, or "imposter syndrome," or whatever it is that has us briefly paralyzed. We also then remember the wonderful interchanges with others we have had around creativity, the ways in which we connected to them and became bigger then ourselves in our art.

Ultimately, I feel like writing/music/creativity in whatever form has value because it helps us enjoy and/or somewhat detach (in a healthy way) from the baser aspects of our physical existence—which let's be honest, is often painfully mundane, repetitive, uncomfortably driven by continuous craving for satiation and fleeing from anything perceived as a threat.

With regards to the indulgent aspect of writing, it has often been compared to that activity which is done behind closed doors and not to be spoken of in polite company. I want to advance another metaphor: that writing is more like digestive transmutation. We take words, feelings, impressions, experiences in, and process them into progressively unrecognizable forms that are more agreeable to our mental/emotional system.

We are constantly taking in words through conversation, audible media, books, movies, etc. Our writing is a product of this external stimuli modified by an inner state. In writing, we make conscious decisions in filtering out the extraneous to cut down to what it is we really hope to say. We absorb the nutrients of philosophies that agree with our system and reject other sentiments as toxins. We store techniques we like in our mental organs against the hard times of creative famine and let the rest pass through.

To leave that imperfect metaphor, the beauty in this rumination is found in the fact that what we express often touches others in profound ways. What we write in order to further heal ourselves may become nourishment to a reader in a manner beyond our wildest expectations. Even, and especially, admissions of our own failures, suffering, and poor decisions can become tonics against the vicissitudes of life for more than just ourselves.

Individuals are all born with proclivities; then variously acquire through nurture an amazing array of different skillsets. All of them are necessary; all of them are valuable. Whatever it is one loves to do above all, one will do better than anything else because it is that adoration that empowers us to continue despite extrinsic rewards. I am extremely grateful for those who have encouraged me in my creative endeavors over the years. They help me keep a clear vision and a hefty dose of determination in the face of a societal structure that too often feels callous, uncaring, and hypermaterialistic: focused on win-lose scenarios. Please share in a comment below—what is it you love to do above all?

I believe that life, if recontextualized properly, can become a win-win paradigm. Freely giving and receiving resources feels most wholesome to me and it is when I am open to that happening that I see the most learning and transformation occurring. I am hopeful that we are currently transitioning into that understanding as a species, which, however, may take a very long time to coalesce into full abundance on Planet Earth.

I fear that this blog may be a bit schizophrenic in nature. I have this feeling that the longer I write, the more it devolves into attempting to tackle everything in one go! Best, perhaps, to just leave it off and get into a habit of writing these entries regularly.

Now, it's your turn—what do you think about poetry vs. prose writing? Being devoted to a craft in the face of external failures? What are your favorite creative outlets? And did you enjoy reading something different on this blog than my "typical" sparse poetry blogs?