There is less pressure in the unknown, in the undefined, in the free-flowing. Until they become known, until their forms get defined, and until their substances are made to flow in meaningful directions and momenta. Then one gets preoccupied with a lot of worrying: about their names and whether one can remember their names; about preserving or improving their forms, adding to or subtracting from, multiplying or dividing; about whether their meanings will ever be enough to fill in voids and spaces. Voids and spaces that, in time, will be observed to come into their own, and become known and defined and meaningful themselves. These, the great forces of entropy, brought upon us: so we may know the unknown, and witness the pressure expand and collide and collapse. And expand some more, and collide and collapse again. These cycles can be relentless and may not offer much comfort, even as we get to know them and hold them in their defined and defiant stages.
That is why I like writing with pen names: to try to keep the pressure to the minimum as much as possible. Especially when I still do not know what I really want to do. But of course, I do not intend to buck the tide for long. If you still do not know me by now, you will get to know me soon enough.
Meanwhile, in the next postings, like modest rafts coming in to harbor, some of my prose and poetry, which previously appeared under pen names in old forsaken blogs and websites, will be relocating here. This blog will serve as tempered generosity to gather what used to be scattered writings of this part-time writer, collect them here in this hopefully more stable, more hospitable homestead, for good-natured readers to find them in one place. For the moment, this blog will be like an amiable sea that gently brushes a sandy beach, almost soothingly, bringing in no surprises except for the promise of a rising tide and maybe, fresh flotsam and jetsam.
Some other times, this blog will be a restless sea, even a raging sea. But nevertheless still generous. Entropy always is generous, for that is how it finds its meanings amidst its forces of unyielding chaos and taciturn randomness.
I wish you well in your new creativity.
Thank you, John. I wish this creativity could be as verdant as your garden 🙂