My Life Is A Card Catalog Room In New York’s 42nd Street Library

Card Catalog
When contemplating any subject, I often intentionally avoid researching it. After all, I think, part of writing has to come from what I already know, not what I set out to learn. Only then can I test my apprehension, from what I think I understand, assuming it’s worth writing in the first place.

If I read before I thought about a subject, how could I be sure my thoughts weren’t influenced by someone else, or arising from an external source?

As long as I keep my mind open, I’m on safe ground, taking an initial introspect point of view. That’s assuming that it’s possible to separate what I think I know from what I have learned from the life I have already lived, which has already been affected by many circumstances set in motion.

Another point of view might question the ability to write before exploring other perspectives, because limited knowledge is insufficient to make conclusions. Although, that would be true of science or math. If life really is “just a matter of perspective”, learning isn’t necessary for thinking. All that is needed is a fundamental level of language to express perspective, an opinion. Knowledge is also what I think I know from any given point in time and the way its annotated.

Poetry becomes the space between the line encapsulating the possibilities and images evoked, by the word, while creating a literary landscape, as with prose or presentations of facts to support a position, illustrates other intentions. Perhaps it’s also about verbalizing, organizing, then penning on paper what others may think, but haven’t found a way, as yet, to enunciate, that defines the writer, their technique or purpose of what is written.