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The Artist's Soul

“Why must we consider always the intelligence of the reader? Is it not for the reader to endeavor to understand us?”—Henry Miller, Letters To Emil

Time to take a step back.

This Internet, this blogosphere, is a noisy place. Has the world, the first-world in any case, ever been noisier? I doubt it. With our smartphones and iPods we are eminently connected, and paradoxically move further and further away from Connection to ourselves. It’s no surprise, and you’ll hear no lamentations from here.

All the same, these sort of thoughts have been taking shape in the old bean over the last month or so.

The Omphalos Cafe is a quiet place, above all. It is the quiet place out of which a heartfelt word is spoken, a sport or activity is engaged in with thoughtless fluidity, it is the place you are when walking hand in hand with a loved one without need of word or explanation. It is the wordless paddling down the stream of Life.

However, it has occurred to me that, having been written from a quiet place, mustn’t it also be read from one too for anything of substance to be communicated? I believe so. Is the blogosphere such a quiet place? Is it conducive to a certain susceptibly poetic frame of mind and heart? I have my doubts.

In any artistic endeavor—and what else is this?— the medium need always be kept closely in mind. The ineffable message must ever be wedded to the form.

Alas, more noise.

I have longer works in mind, perhaps works which will draw a reader in and help create that quiet space so that something I’ve been aiming my darts at will be more easily conveyed.

It’s all part of the fun, part of the ongoing challenge that is Life.

And the Omphalos Cafe? It’ll still be around, maybe as a repository for poetic little fragments jotted down here and there.

Thank-you, dear reader, and all the very best.