Transmuting the Tumblr: A Writer Emerges
Hello, dear reader!
This is both the last post I will be making on this Tumblr, and the first post of a brand new era in my life.
Not long after Trump’s election almost one year ago, I began feverishly writing, writing pages and pages of material, just unfurling, digesting, lamenting, raging my mind. I wasn’t writing because I wanted to, I was writing because I had to--it was somewhat akin to being in a trance state. It disturbed me because the time it was taking up impaired my activities on other commitments, and I couldn’t see the purpose of what I was doing. I felt out of control, seized by the need to write--and it made me anxious. Hearing from even a scant handful of friends that we see you and whatever this is, we’re excited for you and we believe in you made a world of difference.
Now, I’m sure any writer will tell you: my experience is not that strange or uncommon, really. Over the past year, I have begun to look with a more objective eye at the patterns in my life--at my compulsive streams of consciousness, at the stack of two dozen packed journals beside my desk--and come to the conclusion that whether or not I embrace or accept the label, I AM, simply, a writer... and it might reduce unnecessary tension in my life if I were to acknowledge this as a self-evident matter.
Why am I so averse, why have I struggled so grotesquely over all these years, to simply label myself as an artist, as a writer? I’m sure that question is best answered by my therapist. Suffice it to say, it’s been a long and rocky journey to the blatantly obvious. Fortunately: I have chosen to embrace and accept, and work with, myself as a writer.
Perhaps any writer would tell you, too, that it is also not surprising that what I casually dubbed “the Trump pieces” did not go nowhere. They began to take finer and clearer shape. Over many hours and stages of refinement, and with the aid of friendly readers/editors, they are now a set of 9 pieces, amounting to over 25,000 words. Adopted by Metapsychosis, an online journal about art and consciousness (and part of Cosmos.coop’s platform), Transmuting the Trumpocalypse launches today as a prose, dialogue and multimedia odyssey into the subtle roots and forms of power, as exemplified by Donald Trump’s shocking political ascendance culminating in his installment as president of the United States--a predicament that continues to cause disastrous havoc and widespread suffering, today.
I feel excited to share my thoughts. I strongly believe that we are not looking at our collective situation in ways that are helpful, or that can unleash the best of what is possible to accomplish together. Perhaps telling what I see might help reduce harm and confusion in the world, even just a little. I will be sharing insights gleaned from arduous, private efforts on my part to align every last molecule of my life experiences into a framework that makes elegant sense. As you’ll see in the pieces, Buddhist practice, as well as indigenous and permaculture awareness and practice, have played a significant role, for me, in developing this. Though my ego may revolt, so engrained to proclaiming itself small and unworthy, I am learning how to say “this is good and right, and it is worthy of sharing with the world.”
To further support and prioritize myself as a writer, I will be migrating off of this Tumblr and on to an as-yet-unbuilt blog on the new blogging platform, A Theory of Everybody (also part of the Cosmos.coop universe) which will become the central repository for my regular writings. This will be the singular hub where I organize and present my writings to the world; in fact, once the ToE blog is up and running, I am going to try to publish a new piece of writing every day. If you’re wondering why this Tumblr has been so dormant lately, it is because I have been anticipating this blogging platform launch for months now, and have been stockpiling a mighty armory full of backlogged writings. Less than a month from today, it is due to be up and running, so I will meet you there, gleefully, to throw open the gates.
Thank you, as always, for reading. I am looking forward to building my rapport with the world in this way. You, dear reader, are my world. You are cordially invited to receive me and respond to me. I deeply appreciate the opportunity.
In closing, I’ll share the same aspiration here that I close the first essay of Transmuting the Trumpocalypse with. May you cultivate a mental soil that bears wholesome fruits.
And may I be so lucky as to contribute to that process.
With love,
Caroline/Clara
