Mansi

Listening to 'Don't let the sun go down on me' by Elton John got me thinking about when he did the same song with George Michael which I absolutely LOVED.

I really really like George Michael - always have. I remember when news broke out that he wasn't as 'normal' as the rest of the men out there. My brother and me were in a room once and my brother spoke outloud, not in particular to anybody. He said - I always sensed something was off with that chap. I remember thinking, my god, me too!!!!

Today thinking back on that incident, I think my brother and I have shared so many 'similar' feelings. Perhaps living abroad by ourselves made us more sensitive to what was not being said, and not being understood. It comes with being of 'foreign' origin living in a country that is not yours. Of course years after we both came back to our 'own' country we realized that we're no more of this country either. Still sensitive, still tuned in to people better than they are into themselves:

Post George Michael's unveiling of sorts, I think he has come out with better music more true to his talent than ever before. His jigs with Mary J Blige and even Elton John on this classic number are unforgettable.

Which brings me to the term 'vague'. I used this to characterize a person's blog and another's poetry. Driving back from my run this morning, I pondered on what was behind that term I used - 'vague'. As an initial reaction, a friend pointed out that perhaps because my blog is focused, I find anything that is not like mine vague. First I thought - wow, I am focused! Next I blushed - finally, I am focused! Then I thought, perhaps it's about age. I am at an age now where I feel more focused, more by practice if not naturally. And then I trashed that opinion too since it was not true. First, I don't read other blogs as a reaction to mine. That's boring. I maintain a blog so that I can read it - primarily. When I read another blog, I am reading them - primarily. Second, I've always expressed myself as I do on my blog. I have maintained diaries and journals since I could write. Prior to blogging, I had an account at LiveJournal and Oprah's online journal. Thus, this is not a new style acquired with age or experience.

Writing to me is a reflection of how one thinks. Thinking is an art. To be able to assess, sift, sort and then derive meaning (however shallow or insightful), thinking is an action. When I visit blogs and read excerpts that are not process oriented or action oriented, I find that vague. Writing then becomes a snapshot, snapshots that are deliberate and meticulously orchestrated and yet completely vague.

Writing has never been about the language, in my opinion. It isn't about one's vocabulary or one's skill with sentences. Writing is really about what we think.
My favorite quote that ALWAYS applies to me is that of Faulkner: I don't know what I think about something till I've read something I wrote on it.
Writing thus is my way to figure out what I think about a particular issue, feeling or person. Writing is means to think about something. I often will begin writing and it jumpstarts my thinking and lo and behold at the end of the exercise, I know something. It need not be significant and more often than not, it's a discovery. Other times, its a conscious effort to improve.
We think because we have a conflict or problem at hand. Thinking is means to solving / figuring something out. Thus it's an action - one with an outcome. While writing helps me think, it almost always represents an effort to improve and figure.

Then I come across blogs where there are snapshots, no thinking - in fact a deliberate shut door on any process - and to me that writing is vague. It's off center. It doesn't tell me anything about the person anymore. It will at times tell me more about myself because everything is off center. That could be me on the page, or it couldn't. It certainly isn't the blogger though. Here the writing is often obviously contradictory, obviously trajectory, obviously NOT what it is or isn't. It's a controlled expression, carefully scripted and sculpted, that has no soul, except for the one it reflects in it's readers.

That's Vague.