The Seeker’s Dungeon has provided us writers with a prompt: Write about your inner self.
He asks us to dig in to our selves: to find our inner selves – and then write – if not
FROM the inner self, then at least ABOUT the inner self. An interesting challenge to be sure. And one from which I typically shy away. That’s just how I am.
When I write, I don’t talk about myself directly. I don’t share personal details about myself nor about those close to me. It’s true that when I write I project something, and that “something” is largely myself. All the same, there are certain things that I don’t reveal. I have my secrets. Someone might actually read my books. You never know.
Many artists, of course, have made their name, their fame, and their fortunes on self-revelatory accounts. To wit Philip Roth, Henry Miller, Hemingway in his sly way.
But the greats: Hugo, Tolstoy, Shakespeare, well, they created something far beyond their personal selves.
Sreejit, that’s Mr. Dungeon to you, makes an interesting reference to Louis Armstrong. Sreejit confesses that he’s always a bit disappointed when he sings (in the shower) when the voice that emanates from his throat is not that of Louis Armstrong, but rather is a voice that more closely resembles some nearly-on-key creaking.
So, in the name of nearly-on-key creaking and writing about the inner self, here is a song titled I Call To You that I wrote a long time ago. Apologies for the recording which isn’t so hot. But after what I’ve just said, no apologies for the voice, even though it ain’t Louis Armstrong.
I think that my music is totally an expression, a manifestation, of my inner self. In that regard, everything is a manifestation of my inner self. “He can run, but he can’t hide” said the great boxer Joe Louis. Good old Joe, may he rest in peace.