"Writing = Freedom" by Matt Fangman

I met Matt Fangman several years ago when I showed my photography portfolio at his design firm.  A few years later we were on the same team in a scavenger hunt on a Saturday afternoon.  I always knew Matt was a smart, talented, likable guy, but aside from bumping into him occasionally at advertising functions, we didn't hang out or socialize together.

Flash forward to the present and through the magic of email and facebook,  Matt and I have developed a friendship that really means a lot to me. He and I were chatting recently about our mutual enjoyment of writing, and we decided to each have the other guy "guest host" his blog.  

It turns out Matt's not just a smart, talented, likable guy...he's also a great writer with a sharp wit, an acerbic sense of humor and an insightful view of the world.  Enjoy!

Writing = Freedom.

This is the truth for me. I don't think this statement is for everyone. You have to figure out for yourself what your first word is—and then you start to become more free. I've come to the conclusion that I have to write. Daily. I have to commit the time to it. I have to put it out there and connect. At some point it may make me money. At some point it may make me friends. But, if neither happens, it will still have been worth it.

We are in the midst of the most fascinating communication explosion in human history. Never before has the ability for one person to directly connect to another been so easy. Meaningful connection, however, is never easy.

Meaningful connection is why I write. I write to clarify my thoughts. I write to satiate the creative impulse. I write to connect. It's painful. Frustrating. Rewarding. Lonely and loving at the same time. I'm not always sure if I'm doing it right and I'm making it up as I go along. It's a journey.

The weird thing is that it's a very new journey for me. I've only been writing on my blog for a year. I am and have always considered myself a visual communicator. Initially trained as an artist. Developed professionally as a designer. Eventually became a businessman on top of it. Somewhere along the way, I shifted. The muse changed. Or maybe I did.

I talk about this sometimes on my blog, not to draw attention to myself for approval (yay! Look at me! I'm an awesome self-actualized artist! This is cheaper than therapy!) but to communicate openly about the process of creation, why it's important, and to give encouragement to others to do the same. I think sometimes people need permission to create.

This journey has allowed me to continue to develop my own voice. Something that has been sorely underutilized. I bet you have a voice too. Have you practiced it? Do you let it sing? Or is it hidden away? Not quite a fit for your job. Not quite a fit for friends. Not quite a fit for your daily life. If this is you, then you are missing out. You don't need to be perfect. You don't need to be great. You just need to be. That is why I write.

Writing makes me free.

You can read more of Matt's writing at www.fangmarks.com

Writing About Writing About Writing

I fell in love for the first time when I was 17. 

She’s happily married now and lives in London, but we still exchange e-mails a few times each year and catch up on each other’s lives.  I’ve been in love a few times since then, but my longest relationship is with photography, my constant companion for more than 25 years. 

I feel so fortunate to have spent a quarter of a century being paid to do something I love. And now that I’m not doing photography for a living and just doing it for fun, I feel more creative than I ever have.  No rules or regulations or art director standing over my shoulder wanting me to shoot it six different ways.

But this is supposed to be a blog about writing.  I know nothing about writing except that it feels good.  I love it.  Just like I love mowing the lawn or washing a sink full of dirty dishes...there’s a real feeling of accomplishment when I look at what I’ve done.  Although with mowing the lawn or doing the dishes, you know when you’re finished.  Writing is never completed, just abandoned.

When I was In the eleventh grade, there was a girl in my English class named Georgia Hodges.  She had thick blonde hair and straight white teeth and a dazzling smile, as well as other moving parts that a 16 year old boy couldn’t help but notice.  I sat right behind her, but she didn’t know I existed.  One day I glanced over at desk of the guy sitting next to me in class and saw that he had written the words “You’re my blue sky, you’re my sunny day” in his notebook.

After class, I saw him talking to Georgia as he handed her the folded up piece of paper.  It wasn’t until years later that I found out that those are the lyrics to an Allman Brothers song.  I don’t know if Georgia knew either, but she sure was smiling that beautiful smile of hers. 

I’ve kept a journal for years. When I got rid of all of my possessions a year and a half ago, I found a box containing about 40 notebooks that I had accumulated over the years.  I painstakingly scanned or photographed every single page so that I can keep them on my computer. Clearly I get something out of writing.

Why am I telling you all this?  Because of the joy I’ve received from writing this blog. Having spent most of my adult life as in a creative profession, it’s such a wonderful surprise to discover a new outlet for my creativity, and one that exercises a completely different set of muscles.  I’ve found that it brings me as much pleasure as photography, and unlike the latter, doesn’t require any particular lighting or special equipment.  What it does have in common with photography is the need to focus, to pay attention to detail and to have a clear subject in mind.  And to get rid of anything distracting that dilutes or diminishes it.

Because writing a blog is still relatively new to me, I’m not bound by all the rules and experience that a seasoned writer is. As an expert photographer, I found that often times I would rule out certain possibilities because, based on my experience, I was certain they wouldn’t work.  But sometimes, because I’d run out of solutions or because an inexperience assistant suggest a naïve approach, I’d try it anyway and find to my astonishment that something I was absolutely positive wouldn’t work, did.

That’s where I am as a writer.  A beginner.  I don’t know enough to know what writers aren’t supposed to do, so all possibilities are open to me.  I’m beginning to develop a sense of style.  And as was the case when I started taking photographs, I’m doing it for fun…for self-expression…for me.

And just like my ongoing trip around the world that has taken me through 24 countries in the past 20 months,  writing is a journey with twists and turns and often unexpected destinations.  I can’t wait to see where I wind up!

“In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.” :: Zen Master Shunryo Suzuki

Nothing To Write Home About

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit. :: Aristotle

I want it to be funny.

And soulful. With just the right amount of insight and poignancy without being sappy or tying everything up in a neat little bow. I want it to be honest and provocative and to raise questions. And I want to retain a vulnerability and a child-like curiosity about the cosmos.

In other words, I want my writing to be a blockbuster, laugh 'til you cry, lump-in-your-throat, chart-topping, best-selling epiphany every single time.

I suffer from the delusion that if I just chisel it, whittle it and sandpaper it long enough…that if I rearrange the words and sentences and paragraphs in every possible permutation, I’ll get it right. And that is the death of creativity.

That approach will whip the very life out of any artistic pursuit, and turn it into a scientific endeavor. Instead of dancing like nobody’s watching, I often feel paralyzed by the criticism of the imaginary reader in my head who’s thinking “This is crap!” That voice, of course, is mine. Someone once told me "Fill the balcony in your mind with a standing-room-only crowd of your biggest fans." Why is it that I listen to the handful of jeering hecklers in the cheap seats?

It’s not like I have any shortage of material. Even when I’m not traveling to exotic destinations, I have something to write about every single day. I live in a world that is filled with humor and poignant, mystical moments and lots of joy and plenty of sadness. I am perennially curious, and frequently filled with wonder by things I can’t explain, and skeptical of those who think they can.

When I have an experience I want to recount, a story I want to tell, a feeling I want to convey, I often think in grandiose cinematic terms: a screenplay, complete with storyboard illustrations, lighting diagrams, camera angles and an orchestral soundtrack.

And so I begin to write. Except that I’m not tapping on my computer keys, or putting pen to paper. It’s in my head. And that kind of writing goes nowhere. It's too much trouble for me to actually do it. Or I'm too tired. Or there's not enough time. What!? I've got nothing if not TONS of time right now.

But I want it to be polished…primo…perfect. With just the right amount of alliteration. I’m not talking about grammar or run-on sentences or dangling participles. I want it DO something to the person reading it…whether it’s a eliciting a chuckle, or a sigh, or a memory, or sharing my skewed perspective on things.

And so what it comes down to is what I know already. It’s the dilemma of every artist. If I sit and wait for the muse to grace me with her presence, I might miss dinner. It’s not like Mozart banged out a greatest hit every time he sat down at the piano. And I feel certain that Mr. Van Gogh used up a lot of yellow paint before he before he got those sunflowers just right. In fact, he didn’t sell a single painting while he was alive.

And yet I let my fear of putting anything mundane out there keep me from writing. And perfection can stand in the way of a lot of great art. Someone once said "Art is never completed, just abandoned."

I feel certain that Sir Isaac Newton, the inventor of gravity, would tell you that it’s not every day an apple falls on your head. There’s a lot of hard work and tree shaking and days with no apples.

So even when there’s no tangible payoff, any kind of artistic pursuit has to be a regular discipline. Sitting down at the keyboard...whether it's a computer or a piano, picking up the brush or the camera or the pen. Stepping out on the tight rope and realizing that falling or failing aren't even remote possibilities. I mean...how bad can it really be? If anything, it’s one more lesson in how NOT to do it next time.

And by the way, I've been working on this for about 6 hours and I’m still not happy with it. But I'm gonna walk away. And come back and fiddle with it some more later.

Even when I do not feel like work, I sit down to it just the same. I cannot wait for inspiration, and inspiration at best is a force brought into action by effort.

Igor Stravinsky