Sunday, August 9, 2009

I want to be an alchemist!

I've always thought it beautiful. The art of alchemy. I should probably categorize it as a "science" - given that it is the precursor to modern chemistry. But its the "idea" of the alchemist that interests me. He is an artist. Striving to better humanity by finding the Elixir of Life or the Philosopher's Stone sounds like a quest for Harry Potter but really, actually, men lived who slaved and passed days and years trying to get that proper concoction which would bring eternal life or turn all things tarnished into gold.

Now...chemists have developed a way of "creating" gold. Of course, it turns out that the means for creating such synthetic gold is far more costly than having the world go about its processes, churning its insides and spewing gold in its bowels. But! The idea of the alchemist and what he strives for is what makes me swoon over him. A lifetime devotion to something which is impossible to achieve, which cannot be had - eternal life and that substance that will turn all into gold do not exist, they never have. Faith or a marketable idea might be an answer to these things. But the alchemists I am thinking of hid their ideas in fear that the church or some other "leader" might crucify them for dabbling in these black arts which really strove to help mankind.

They created codes to hide their secrets. Some to hide their possible formula for wealth but others, mostly to protect themselves from the Big Brother of their time.

I think the alchemists of today are very much the writers and artists who strive to create something "golden". Sometimes doing so means stepping on the toes of others but usually these others are giant corporations or governments whose feet are too big to begin with. Who trample upon the lives of others without so much as a glance down to see what devestation is caused by their business. Artists, like the alchemists, take the dreary, the mundane, and the ugly and wield their skills to create something much more beautiful. They take the things of life and offer up their views in code which some can decipher and others cannot.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Apparently I'm a writer...

It amazes me how many people fancy me a "writer"...I'm constantly being handed short stories or snippets taken from books, magazines, essays and other forms of print that have something to do with writing or are examples of "good writing". Websites too, "check this site out it's a 'writing site'". I haven't written a piece of prose in ages...unless writing in one's journal constitutes a professional calling, I am NOT a writer.
How it is that the people in my life are so certain about my vocation as a writer is a mystery to me. Apparently, I am capable of vividly describing smells...the compliment came from my boyfriend whose flatulence I likened to the scent of "hell" - the smell of burning flesh, excrement; rotting, pestilence and eternal damnation. I just thought I was being funny. And then there's my best friend who actually is a talented writer - an established poet and wordsmith who commends the writing style of my emails. Will publishing my emails get me into the literary cannon? Probably not.
I am a reader. First and foremost. That is the only comfortable title I would be willing to give myself.
I read voraciously and the one time I felt my mortality, that Death would one day come to consume me was in relations to books.
I was at Robarts Library at the University of Toronto searching for Donne's "The Legacy" - ironically enough. And if you haven't been there - the place has floors upon floors of "stacks". People have been rumored to being raped in its isles because of the vastness and poor lighting of the place. That said, I was sitting in the middle of an isle, as I always do in libraries, getting comfortable with my stack of books...and I realized, even if I lived a hundred years, I still would not have the time to read every volume the library contained...I cried. Actually...
Granted, not all books are worth reading. Also in my favor is the fact that Robarts houses a vast collection of books printed in a number of languages, which to me are foreign. There are many terrible books out there as well, books that had to be published because someone lost a bet or a gun was involved during the supposed "book proposal"...
In any case, they got their books published. I speak of "working on a novel"..."writing something grand one day" and though I've got a cheering squad of friends and family behind me, I'm still working on gathering the courage to be "a writer"...whatever that entails.