I like to surf WordPress in moments of self-indulgent, excessive, orgiastic gluttony; drinking in the pictures, words, thoughts of a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand people who are yearning to have their solitary voice cut through the rushing, tumultuous waters of social media. Capturing a single stroke of their artistic renascence is as likely as reaching out to pluck a single rain drop from the pounding storm. Yet, we all try to shout louder than everyone around us; to produce something that is so profound that others will gasp, envy, desire, empathize, swallow, indulge, scorn ….pick any emotive adjective you wish…that which we have produced. Most of it is rehashed tautology: once you’ve seen one HD picture of a sunset you’ve got little else to see in the next other than variants on light and shadow.
There is a supreme effort that goes into describing the features of a stranger or of an event that has caught the eye of our pleasure, our displeasure. It is impossible to enumerate all the words written online devoted to evaluating the qualities of beauty and sadness; it is a dismaying assemblage of adjectives to make sense of. For all that, we still numbly join the madding crowds and applaud those who wrap a false cloak of artistic bamboozlement around us that is made worse by their fervent sincerity to ‘express’; we seek those who delight in sage sentences wanting to drown us in words and syntactic form we don’t truly understand yet must idolize lest they beat upon our consciousness like a mocking teacher for our inability to master them. We perceive those writers, poets, artists, photographers with a sense of profundity because to not do so is to admit we might have met a charlatan, or that we might not be their equal. Lonely is the dissenting, questioning voice in a social media clamour of lemming adoration.
Poster quotes are like this. A beautiful sunset, a streaked sky of red and orange, the very cut between light and darkness is overset with words ascribed to some shamanistic person, vague enough to make us swoon in literary awe, accurate enough to make us believe with the same fervour we get on seeing our horoscopes in the paper. The aftertaste is bitter, we are dragged down into the vulgar world again having braved the perils of these artistic and literary immortal landscapes we have ascended, reduced to conversing in worldly gossip again so that the stink of the human world seeps in past the pores of our skin and the grime cloaks us under an onerous burden.
My self-satisfied garrulousness is permitted freedom like this when I surf WordPress, trying to catch the perfect wave of a random blogger’s view or opinion, always falling in the dirty froth that is the totality created by sweeping up the once pristine silts of a sea floor that are now covered in execrable human waste. There is bravdo, each an ebullient braggard, all puff and no substance that, in fact, provides the perfect touch to the serenity of what I read and see. Much of what is published is thoughtless and any genius is down to sheer Fortune or common vision with the reader rather than Sosekian skill.
So, as those who would capture and publish their moments on this site as though they were skylarks, singing all day the delights of the mustard blossom’s gold, know that it is upon the earth you tread, and tread it carefully lest it be rent open and you are forced to battle with others for the sake of your own reputation and subsequently undergo sufferings bred of illusion. Each artist feasts on mists, sips at dew, appraises hues, imbibes the essence of a complex world, trying to taste its very marrow. Each poet must realise that the cornucopia is plentiful, yet limited. It is satiating, yet mythological.
Indeed the realms of poetry and art are amply present in all of us as WordPress testifies to. Write and paint and photograph now so that in your later years of groaning decrepitude you may recollect the vicissitudes of your experience and history, may forget your sullied self and recall with delight those moments when you shone. Whether you are brushed by the teary winds of a traveller’s photographed landscape or your soul vibrates to the sound of ethereal music or you plunge into the elation of pummelling waves of a poem or you ingest the serene calmness of snarling political views…when great energy arises in you and you feel the need to capture it, blog it, post it…to tell others. Before you Publish, remember then that which you speak of, write of, paint of must be more than just the moment, the picture, the expression of state that caused your transcendence into happiness or rage. Your whole feeling must go into it so that we know your inspiration, that the phenomenal world of which you know leaps from WordPress and impresses it on us each.
For to aspire to anything less is to ensure your voice is swept away like a forgotten droplet in the rushing river of human expressivity.