Sunday, April 15, 2007

In Search of Something New

A wise man recently observed that Blankpaige's posts of late reveal a "a tendency to search for something "new" to say when" I blog?". This is observation is hardly surprising, coming as it does from a very perceptive individual. He proceeds to note that

If so, I understand better why you may be finding it difficult to decide
whether to write, or even what to write.

Now I find this observation quite intriguing. I'm pretty sure that I know that I want to write. How else does one explain the jumble of ideas that cascade from my increasingly addled mind whilst traversing Dublin on the No. 13 bus. I can't take a simple lift ride or stroll along the sea front without being grasped by an urge to put pen to paper about something. It is interesting that I use the phrase "pen to paper" in a purely metaphorical manner as I've no inclination to do so physically. (My loathing of the sight of my own handwriting - there is a whole story and psychoanalysis there waiting to happen - is in itself sufficient for me to want to burn every scrap of paper that has ever never refused my ink.) Perhaps this is why I love the electronic medium of blogosphere so much. Quite apart from the ability to write acres of stuff and then wipe it out with one click of the "delete" button, I can look as presentable as the next scribe - my dis-jointed joined-up writing can be as good as the next blogger's! (Incidentally, my self-consciousness about my accent, is the reason why I favour texting so much also!)

My sage offers a valuable insight into the search for the 'illusive "new"' and provides a very thought-provoking analysis that is far from his own description as amateurish. And he is indeed correct - none of us can help but write something that is new (given that we are all original voices) and none of us can ever write anything new (as everything we ever write has been written before).

In some respects I'm less interested or even impressed by the thought of my individual voice. It is no false modesty to realise that my observations are no more profound or no more brilliantly crafted than anyone elses. Although, I do appreciate the many kind words of encouragement. perhaps I've overdone the "I'm not worthy line". I clearly believe that I'm as worthy as the next otherwise I wouldn't be doing this blog stuff. Maybe I have been subconsciously fishing for compliments but I think probably it is complements that I seek.

I am fascintated by the concept of how it is impossible to blog without establishing a connection. The brilliance of blogging is not that it allows everyone to realise their ambition of being a writer but rather that it provides the most powerful medium for interaction behind a reassuring mask. (Althoug irony of ironies, even though e hide behind some bloger template mask, our every customisation reveals more about us than that mask hides.)

The act of blogging, hopefully eliciting comments and reacting to those comments is a joy to behold. It proves, if proof were needed, that the human condition is programmed for interaction - no blogger is an island. The medium is so, so powerful. It is to the internet, the hot medium that radio is to TV.

It is interesting - but not really surprising - to note the number of journalists who are turning to blogging or indeed the number of bloggers who are turning to more traditional channels of communication (radio, writing, etc). I can appreciate that apart from the occasional "letter to the editor" or involvement in a TV retrospective of the type "How to be a TV pundit without knowing anything" variety so favoured by Fiona Looney, there is precious little interaction within the tradition media. It must be so damn frustrating to be the brilliant Kevin Myers or think yourself the brilliant Fintan O'Toole but never really get to hear how their brilliantly observed, brilliantly crafted prose interacts with the reader. (If you'll excuse the excessive brilliance - what I need is a sub-editor!). This is the print media equivalent of the curse of Cassandra, I suppose. Having the power to touch but not knowing how that power is felt.

The migration of bloggers to the traditional media (Sinead, Twenty, Sarah, Damien, etc) is also no less surprising. Some individuals are so powerful at interacting that their gift demands to be brought to wider attention. God bless editors, publishers and radio producers for recognising talent even when it doesn't come with within RTE or IT-encrusted curricula vitarum.

Blessed are the commenters for they are blogoshere's value add. Omani has, again, done me a great service by providing another most welcome intellectual engagement. My sincere thanks to him. Now do yourself a favour - go read some brilliantly observed stuff on "From Bath to Cork with Baby Grace".



Anonymous Coastal Aussie said...

What kind of accent would you have, that would make you self conscious? I can understand what you mean though. My accent is fine.. I’m just shy!

7:56 a.m., April 21, 2007  
Blogger Omaniblog said...

I wanted to let some time go by before saying Thank You for such generous remarks. I loved reading them.
You are not the only person who finds it hard to cope with compliments.

11:09 p.m., April 25, 2007  
Blogger Paige A Harrison said...

A painful amalgam that is a cross between an East Galway accent & a West Midlands (UK)twang. Distinctive but not pleasant on the ear!

Omani, you are most welcome and most deserving. I'm thinking of returning to my "Brilliant blogger is a God" type hero worship!

10:15 p.m., April 26, 2007  

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