T-6005
12-14-2009, 09:36 PM
So hey, I've decided my threads aren't too long.
I kind of feel like giving all you folks an inside look on how I process things, perhaps even how I fundamentally view the world.
Nah, only kidding. I probably couldn't do that if I tried. I am, however, going to go on about something I absolutely love – and that is zuihitsu. Zuihitsu is an inherent part of the way I think, the way I speak, and the way I formulate my ideas.
For those of you who don't know, zuihitsu was a form of writing conceived in Japan and most popular during the twelth century. It essentially consisted of a loose grouping of thoughts from beginning to end, organized as they arose in the author's mind. It was later ripped off and popularized by Europeans in the nineteenth century as stream of consciousness. I start thinking of something and, for the most part (minor dramatic liberties aside) I stay on the thought until I either finish or give up.
Note – this thread is actually coming as the act of some reflection, ironic as that may be.
But it's just how I work. I think, I work through the thought, I end the thought, then I move onto something else, and it isn't unusual for that to be the entirety of my psychological experience during that period of time – I don't think in terms of my senses, and in fact if something happens around me I'm generally startled. It's an interesting mechanism whereby I'm so involved in my thought process I forget where I am.
It's not an absolute, of course – nothing good ever seems to be. I think this way when I write, or when I talk, but each mode of communication is altered by their specific fallibilities. When I talk, I'm generally talking to someone, and thus my narrative thought process is prone to interruptions and breaks. When I write, periods are the enemy. They represent a mental breath, in which there's a chance I'll become aware of what's going on around me. Unsurprisingly, I often do. I can't be involved in a stream-of-consciousness internal monologue for hours, after all.
All the same, it's part of who I am. When I write essays, I mentally concept-map my essay and then simply begin writing, continuing until I'm finished, with at most one break in the process. This has remained true for essays up to eighteen pages long so far. It's the way in which I work – I can't drop a thought process and take it up again exactly where I left off. I know people who can, but I'm simply not one of them. It's also why I don't do particularly well on the spot. Give me ten minutes and I can spin out a complete (and actually half-decent) thought process, but give me fifteen seconds to answer a question that even touches on a complex concept and I can't do anything for you. I need to be given time to consider the angles. It's not that I don't know that 7x6=42. I do, almost immediately. I simply can't have a question that touches on a topic that has any substance at all without running everything I can think of on that topic into the question. Weirdly enough, as much as I like free-flow thinking, I can't give you an answer without forethought.
So forgive me if we're hanging out and I go silent for a few seconds. And if I start to speak, give me a little leeway, at least at first. Either way, I'm sure we'll have a good time.
I kind of feel like giving all you folks an inside look on how I process things, perhaps even how I fundamentally view the world.
Nah, only kidding. I probably couldn't do that if I tried. I am, however, going to go on about something I absolutely love – and that is zuihitsu. Zuihitsu is an inherent part of the way I think, the way I speak, and the way I formulate my ideas.
For those of you who don't know, zuihitsu was a form of writing conceived in Japan and most popular during the twelth century. It essentially consisted of a loose grouping of thoughts from beginning to end, organized as they arose in the author's mind. It was later ripped off and popularized by Europeans in the nineteenth century as stream of consciousness. I start thinking of something and, for the most part (minor dramatic liberties aside) I stay on the thought until I either finish or give up.
Note – this thread is actually coming as the act of some reflection, ironic as that may be.
But it's just how I work. I think, I work through the thought, I end the thought, then I move onto something else, and it isn't unusual for that to be the entirety of my psychological experience during that period of time – I don't think in terms of my senses, and in fact if something happens around me I'm generally startled. It's an interesting mechanism whereby I'm so involved in my thought process I forget where I am.
It's not an absolute, of course – nothing good ever seems to be. I think this way when I write, or when I talk, but each mode of communication is altered by their specific fallibilities. When I talk, I'm generally talking to someone, and thus my narrative thought process is prone to interruptions and breaks. When I write, periods are the enemy. They represent a mental breath, in which there's a chance I'll become aware of what's going on around me. Unsurprisingly, I often do. I can't be involved in a stream-of-consciousness internal monologue for hours, after all.
All the same, it's part of who I am. When I write essays, I mentally concept-map my essay and then simply begin writing, continuing until I'm finished, with at most one break in the process. This has remained true for essays up to eighteen pages long so far. It's the way in which I work – I can't drop a thought process and take it up again exactly where I left off. I know people who can, but I'm simply not one of them. It's also why I don't do particularly well on the spot. Give me ten minutes and I can spin out a complete (and actually half-decent) thought process, but give me fifteen seconds to answer a question that even touches on a complex concept and I can't do anything for you. I need to be given time to consider the angles. It's not that I don't know that 7x6=42. I do, almost immediately. I simply can't have a question that touches on a topic that has any substance at all without running everything I can think of on that topic into the question. Weirdly enough, as much as I like free-flow thinking, I can't give you an answer without forethought.
So forgive me if we're hanging out and I go silent for a few seconds. And if I start to speak, give me a little leeway, at least at first. Either way, I'm sure we'll have a good time.