The Surgeon

How is it then

to choose to live anew

and so severed must your world of now become?

I am no surgeon

but I stitch

pieces I know to be true

into the whole-new

(dripped in my own blood)

where harm is removed.

The whole-new

out through existence buzzing

becomes the surgeon –

the felt bestowed a tool which pulses

the harmonies of the heart.

How is it thus that worlds are severed

so that new ones may emerge.

Linger where happiness lies

Heaven

sits by the side of a pool in the mountain

covered in Sun and sleeping the mind in facts of the body

lit

as passion or want sinks in the skins of those resurrected

out of sleep fruitless, soaked in rich vision

of waking to blessing

thought not to touch

now felt

surfaced

over

(self)

doubt

and the depths in which it drowns.

Down to the darkness we go

to surface again resurrected

as desire may rise and with it

ascension

choosing to linger where happiness lies.

The Absolute Inseparable

I remember the day I realised my body

– what luck to find it attached to my head.


Nobody bothered to teach me to live in a body

– only that using the head would help.


I seek now the absolute from within this here body

(human experience from dualism saved)


as mind cannot dwell without body

neither is body truly separable from its mind.

How futile to seek hypothetical vacuums

where rational reason is said to exist.


Abandoning vacuum for the human lowlife:

body to mind

as mind is to feeling

and feeling back to the body and mind;

circular schemata a center connecting

penetrate through to link each one up.


No separateness in totality, and no isolation

only varied dimensions indissolubly linked

where as soon as we deem one more than the rest

we are lost on pursuits of confusion, at best.


The absolute inseparable

as thoughts from the body and feeling rising the thoughts

learning sensation to create sense therefrom,

that absolute center where futures still grow.

On the Financial Foundations of Expressive Freedom

“Freedom and fullness of expression are of the essence of the art.”
~ Virginia Woolf in A Room of One’s Own, Chapter 4

It is curious to read such excerpts in the context of the recent identity reshuffle which birthed my artistic self, for the reshuffle itself was facilitated by being able, for the very first time, to comprehend my creative agency and permit full freedom to the expression I had previously attempted to exclusively dedicate to fiscally responsible occupations.  It is my hope that the newly-adopted perspective (which illuminates a network of countless interconnected paths so different to the hostile incline of a single marked route one must not abandon) will shed the rigid expectations long haunting the range of my output. In adopting this freedom I find the liberties I never permitted myself; the exuberance of the poet and her personna – an individual who accepts the fictional, hyperbolic and exaggerated nature of her work.

When discussing freedom and fullness of the art in A Room of One’s Own, Woolf focuses  on how sexism’s asphyxiating grasp limits woman’s ability to achieve financial independence, which she sees as the bare minimum for producing works of literary worth. Financial insecurity undoubtedly played a role in my prior inability to perceive myself for what I was, but this circumstance was derived from having yet to establish my career, as opposed to being blocked from doing so. My mind degenerated under persisting circular thoughts of how I would complete my education, secure my living space or afford to see my family; and it was not until I was able to obtain a predictable income and stable routine that my thoughts relaxed to the point of focusing on further topics.

Perhaps I was lucky that the artistic revelation arrived after income sources were secured. There is little comfort to be found in a risky departure from the path most tread, exposing oneself to the wilderness where the unforgiving winds of late capitalism brutalise a gentle soul of humble means. Since I am certain that such bravery – of forsaking salaried work for a precarious but time-abundant existence in a modern city – would be impossible for me, I am grateful that the stability and predictability of my office salary permit this wholly new world to spring. Undoubtedly I spend much more time doing what I like doing far less, but in my security I am able, for the first time, to imagine what else could be should I dedicate my free hours to crafting this end.

Financial matters aside, Virginia Woolf’s quote presented at the start of this note is extracted from a section of her essay which not only encourages women to withstand claims to their “natural” intellectual limitations, but additionally to perceive how existing formats represent the creations of men whose structure and rules may not be applicable to woman’s contribution. As such, she offers the space for women to shape the art, adapting its rhythm and presentation to the flow of their thoughts and inspiration.

Extending Woolf’s two arguments to the individual, she facilitates insights that can be made independent of gender – firstly that financial security may often play prerequisite for thought to form freely and secondly that existing format need not guide one’s contribution. Whilst a writer must be a reader first and foremost, no pre-defined rule of what constitutes essay, novel or poem should restrict one from presenting what the mind wants to write in the ambiguous or alien format in which it manifests.

Once more, I hope to achieve nothing more than to share part of the process which already exhibits a tangible difference in my life. Whilst financial means to secure a room and a desk appear to have played an indispensable role in enabling expression, abandoning imaginings of the format to which I must subscribe is what inflated the creative capacity. If you ever feel that how you write or paint or dance is not good enough, consider that exploration need not be judged by what has already been done, and that liberation in expression may empower many more than just your own self.

Yours,
Sia

What kinds of Notes?

Dear reader,

The notes you will come to discover here are those of introspective musings, of observational narrative and creative outpour – three processes of a different nature united under a theme of crucial importance: emotion.

Demonstrating true and deep emotion, in particular true negative emotion pertaining to difficulty in life, is uncommon. The pre-programmed response ‘I’m fine’ leaves our most introductory question unanswered millions of times each day. Weeping in private is inappropriate public knowledge. Weeping in the company of others belongs in novels and badly written screenplays.

There are drivers to this phenomenon. We inhabit a world which covets rationality and its scientific successes as the single greatest propeller of progress. I am not here to debate the validity of this statement, but to observe how modern conceptions of emotion as a hinderance and pollutant to the force of rationality not only degrade a healthy dynamic between the two forms of intelligence, but also make us myopic to its stand-alone value.

Few disagree that material concerns have usurped a disproportionate segment of our lives, constructing a temporary illusion that inspiration and purpose are substitutable for comfort and predictability. Permitting the excess of that infinite, volatile capacity within is the tool with which to smash this prism, recognising that emotion is what motivates us past the point of sustenance.

The notes to be collected here are an attempt to escape the two-dimensional cage of emotional superficiality imposed by prevailing conventions. In the reality I aim to sculpt, the practice of feeling shines a light on the needs and boundaries of others as well as our own. More ambitiously still, I will attempt to examine the relationship between the emotional and the rational (because the academic inside me has yet to perish) – how emotive responses, the actions they drive and the retrospective reflection that may follow can, taken as a process of separate stages, drive a more constructive outcome than its individual components.

For I maintain that if we feel more deeply, discuss this with others truthfully and perceive emotion and rationality as separate albeit connected elements integrating into a grander whole, we discover inspiration, purpose and meaning.

Yours,
Sia