The main protagonist of the book I am currently reading is a Nigerian woman named Ifemelu who lives in the US. Amongst many other things, she blogs about race and racism in the host society from her perspective as a Non-African-American woman.
The title of the novel is ‘Americanah’ and it is authored by a Nigerian writer named Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche. I first encounter Adiche online when she spoke on Ted Talk about ‘The Danger of a Single Story’in 2009. Her talk inspired me so much and begun following her works since then and brought me to the novel in question.
It is quite true that momentum is easier to maintain than to establish in the beginning. This is also very applicable with writing. The last time I worked with the article I promised to write was before the Holy Week.
Like what I have already mentioned in my previous posts, this article is based on the research project I have conducted while still in the graduate school. With the workbook of Laura Belcher entitled Writing Your Journal Article in 12 Weeks: A Guide to Academic Publishing Success as my guide, I promised to Bestow one or two hours to writing on a daily basis. Since the Holy Week, I am not able to honour that promise.
For quite some time now, I have been considering to buy a camera and make photography as my hobby. When I have stumbled upon the works of Mihaela Noroc on The Atlast of Beauty, I have been inspired to actually begin ‘doing’ photography as oppose to simply ‘thinking’ of doing it.
Aesthetically speaking, although I do not have any professional knowledge whatsoever when it comes to photography and therefore not in the position to judge her works, I can nonetheless say that the photographs she published are profoundly and extraordinarily beautiful.
It is Monday. A new week has begun. I like Monday because it gives me a sense that a new cycle has begun and that I could start a fresh. It is an opportunity to do better than the last. For some, at least in my own particular case, how we tackle our Mondays may set the tone on how we may tackle the rest of our week.
My week begun beautifully and productively. I woke up very early because I have to go to work. Now that I am back home from work, I allowed myself a cup of coffee and a peanut butter sandwich and instead of turning on the television, I am sitting behind my desk writing this particular blog entry. Continue reading
It has been quite a while since the last time I have updated this dear blog-site of mine and I am starting to feel rather guilty if not worried about it. The last time I have posted a blog entry here was last February 10 entitled To Be Published or Not To Be Published: Writing for the Sake of Writing, which is quite ironic because here, I talked about how I love writing and my promise to write, but did not write since then.
Aside from the huge delay, I have also realized that the blog entry of the 10th of February was the only journal entry I have posted for the month of February. This is quite a contradiction with the frequency I have posted last month. Last month, I have had 11 posts in total.
As part of The Study Game, I was reading Judith Butler’s work entitled Bodies That Matter this morning. The Study Game refers to the exercise I perform where I retrace and relive the years I have spent in graduate school by studying the texts I have read one course at a time.
Like Gender Trouble: Feminism and the subversion of identity, Butlers work on Bodies That Matter is very difficult to understand. I did not fully grasp the ideas conveyed in these text when I have first read them while still in graduate school and little has changed since then. As I revisit these texts, I still do not understand them.
As I have said, I was reading Bodies That Matter this morning and to put it via Candidly, I do not have any clue what Butler was talking about or at least I find it difficult to discern the connections of the different ideas being addressed in her work. I can sense a barrier almost so palpable between myself and the text. It is like hearing a conversation in a different language. When we do not understand the language being spoken, we hear a nose instead of a conversation.
An empty page is quite intimidating. It is daunting to look at empty, blank, white page whether it be a word document on the screen computer or a piece of actual paper on one’s desk. To paraphrase Fredrich Nietzsche: ‘when you gaze long into an empty page, the empty page will gaze back into you.’ For a couple of days now, I have been staring into a blank empty page and although it is Static, it has a life ad will of it’s own. The empty page can reciprocate the gaze and it does look down at me.
A professional writer I am not and perhaps I will never be. I do not possess the necessary talent, creativity, and discipline to become a published author or to earn a living from the craft of writing. Although writer I am not, writing I love nonetheless. There is nothing more gratifying, at least for me personally, to strike an empty page with words of my own expressing my thoughts however incoherent these thoughts might be.