Legacy (Intermission 2)

I was pretty sure there wasn’t a name for it, but I went looking, anyway. Because, you know, Google. I’m often a bit too wordy in my searches, which always brings some sketchy results. I hopefully clicked on the search box and full-sentence typed in, “What do you call a biography about 2 people?”

The answer seems to be “Legacy Writing,” according to Dr. Andrew Weil.

‘Legacy’ though, is a multi-layered word, with an extreme spectrum. Summarizing from MacMillan, I’ll skip to the applicable parts:

Something that someone has achieved that continues to exist after they stop working or die.  

The principle that a thing which exists as a result of something that happened in the past can later be used in a different way

If I were to legacy, it would be for my thought. My style isn’t emulation oriented, except in the sense that it may easily be surpassed.

My grammar is not perfect: I allow myself sprawling loose liberties. My notes are not void of typographical errors, run-on sentences or devoid of undocumentable words.

Tuesday night writer’s fatigue often effects my error sharpness. Unlike my unguarded uncanny tendency to immediately zone in on the one menu misspelling at nearly every restaurant I’ve taken a seat in. My own weekly Knabble document review often self-relays what I meant to say and not necessarily how I typed it.

My messages cay be murky. I muddle through them, too.  I think I’m pretty good at casting an issue without aim or allude. This a humbly self-examinatory conclusion drawn on revsited archives. It’s quite clear I always have a point, but I’ve noticed I’m not always sure why I felt compelled to make it. (If I ever get to the end of this story, I’ll amuse us by republishing.)

The truth is the more I muddle, the less I understand. The less I understand, and the more I struggle. There are countless times I’ve heard this command: Be still and know that I am God. When I can stop thrashing, my muddy storm waters eventually settle. Maybe, when my deeper streams clear, I will be able to return and clarify.

I’m pretty sure having a writing obligation to anyone other than myself would not be met with enthusiasm. I don’t know that I could be placidly accepting of rejections intimating I do not have an amazingly wide-reaching professional talent.

I would rather continue to be a familiar folk artist, engaging in wide-open irregular keystrokes, portraying only the patterns in my life which might help you make sense of yours.

Quote for the Week:

2017 06 20 to share and encourage and enlighten requires love jakorte 06 18 2017

Enjoy this Week’s Discovery Links:

Love Isn’t Love (Til You Give It Away)

Per Oscar Hammerstein: The Sound of Music: I spent an hour searching for a male version of this song. Frank Sinatra is the voice in my head with the added word ‘baby’ Couldn’t find it, but this is an interesting story of how the lyric made it into the play but not to the soundtrack.  16 Going on 17 (Love isn’t Love Til You Give it Away)

Per Reba McIntyre:  very similar, liberties, perhaps: love isn’t love (Til You Give It Away)

Per Michael W. Smith: different and a great message:  Give It Away


Talking At

I’m not reading “Woe is I,” by Patricia T. O’Conner.

It came my way via an abandoned textbook pile, which is also how I was able to matchedly outfit an entire wall of white wire mesh cubbies. I don’t normally engage in dumpster-dive, but over the years, semester-end in Ann Arbor has provided a few useful hardly used items, apparently not graduated-student worthy enough to haul and retain. An impeccably clean garbage can price sticker intact, a delightful 6 foot faux-bamboo, a very nicely nearly-new floor lamp, the assembly required standard dorm cube fare, all have found a home with me. Along with the book that has become the bane of my stubborn existence.

Garrison Keillor adds his faith right there on the paper jacket, purporting clarity, usefulness, and embarrassment saving. I keep picking it up and putting it down. I spent three days re-reading the first four meaty sections, then hopefully paged to 182 in search of something else I could decipher. It didn’t matter. I just don’t get it. I can’t even recognize what it is I am supposed to be processing.

No, really. I know all the words, but the arrangements are foreign. Designed to be a simple to-do or not-to-do guide for what has become acceptable and what will remain formal, I’m apparently in possession of a brain no longer agile enough to follow through lyrical little ditties, and gyrations of text. This is not O’Conner’s fault; I haven’t failed Keillor’s expectations, either.

I must have known these things once. Or, not. I think I struggled through grammar in school. I can’t remember. I do remember branch diagrams, unfondly. I’m pretty sure my limited taken-for-granted knowledge was learned absorbedly (or learnedly absorbed) from reading books and books and books of proper authors writing proper sentences.

I guess the good news is that I don’t have to absorb all this propriety. It’s not like I’m going to fail a major final. The WordPress editor feature disagrees with me a lot. I don’t care. At least I don’t care enough to try and figure out why. If it sounds right to me, I’m gonna go with it. And, everyone knows, if I can’t find the right word, I’ll make one up.

So far, no one has asked me what I’m talking at or getting about.

So far, I’ve got a delightful following of friends and family and fringe who tolerate without being tweaked.

Well, it’s either that, or I’m their “Woe is I.”

Quote for the Week:

2015 06 09 Endorsements add validity jakorte

Enjoy this Week’s Discovery Links:

Neologism:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neologism

Gerund:  http://grammar.about.com/od/fh/g/gerundterm.htm

Stephen Kings says: http://everydaylife.globalpost.com/can-reading-improve-grammar-writing-30370.html