fingerpainting

[gurdonark]

I've written before about the process of novelization which stems naturally from the journaling process. One remains conscious when writing a LiveJournal that one is writing for a potential audience. One remains aware as well as a regular reader of Livejournals that the writer creates something which is not quite "reality" in the way a grocery list is reality. In some instances, intentional omissions arise in the journal, for justifiable reasons such as privacy, entertainment value or a wish to achieve one tone rather than another. In somewhat rarer instances, the casual fictions of everyday life give way to more elaborate fictions--in a few journals it is obvious that the journalist is re-slanting the facts a bit here and there. Sometimes writers do this subtly; just as often, a factual asynchrony arises directly in the journal. In the rare but not uncommon journal, the reader feels that an important fact (what I call "the missing fact") omitted from the journal would re-string the entire bow and arrow of the journal.

I'm much less interested in this post, though, in the writer's ability to deceive, or in the reader's ability to discern. Instead, I'm interested in the way that a LiveJournal becomes the paint set from which I paint entire images of the lives of the journalists. I notice that one or two of the folks on my friends' lists recount fairly elaborate dreams involving LJ friends. My own dreams tend to be less vivid and less connected to anything interesting, including LiveJournal. I do notice, however, that in my mind I paint entire mental portraits of the person whose journal I read and with whom I interact. I tend to have a reasonably good memory, blessed with a head for details revealed in a journal. With any journal I read for any period of time, I tend after a month or two to have a full color painting of the journalist locked away in my mind. I know that a more scientific approach would be to take each fact as a jigsaw, and never fill in the empty spaces for which no piece has been provided. But I instead take each journal as a canvass, and each entry as one more thing with which I can fill in the white spaces.

In my half year on LiveJournal, I've developed the belief that journals should always be read sympathetically, but never be taken utterly literally. Sometimes when a journalist writes "I am devastated", that person is utterly devastated. Sometimes when a journalist writes "I am devastated", this is Tower of Babel speak for "I had a very minor irritation for five minutes today". Accordingly, one cannot be much of a fundamentalist when reading the Holy (and wholly) writ of a LiveJournal. Journalists work in myterious ways.

I believe, though, that journals have a truth in them which transcends their literal truth. This is the mosaic of little notions, common feelings, quirky ways of seeing life, that are the true "I recognize this" for me as I read any journal. I find very comforting when somebody whose life is very different than mine has an insight or a moment about which I can say "this is real for me". It doesn't matter if I am missing the boat altogether. It matters that I have that sacred moment with a journal.

But in order to process the journal, I'm intrigued but not surprised that I have a hard time resisting "filling in the blanks" for the journals I read. I heard one of those "this is not really a commercial commercials" on public radio today for an art exhibit and auction based on Lite Brite. Lite Brite was that kid's toy in which one punched little plastic colored pegs onto a construction paper canvass illuminated by lights. The result was that one could make a literal light picture of different colored pegs. Livejournals are like that Lite Brite canvass. I read the journal, and the writer artfully shows me many of the colors through which the journaling light has shined. But once I have read for a few weeks, I find that I am soon filling in all the spaces without colored pegs, with little lights of my own. What started as a journal which gave a pen and ink sketch of a fascinating journalist becomes a rococo plush art work based on a pen and ink sketch of a fascinating journalist, with gold and silver filigree by Gurdonark. My deductive sense, my intuitive sense and sheer fantasy combine to "flesh out" in my mind what Paul Harvey called "The Rest of the Story".

In three recent instances I've seen the flaws in this approach. In one, I made a comment which was entirely correct based on X assumption, in response to a "friends only" post in a journal. In my own life, X assumption is virtually the only assumption I could ever make about the factual matter under discussion. My journaling friend pointed out to me, with incredible tact and forthrightness that (not X) was actually the working assumption that I should have made. That literally made all the difference--though frankly (not X) is so remote from my own thinking, I would never have painted in that person's assumption in that way (I apologize for my vagueness, but I cannot with integrity be more specific). In another instance, I did a detailed commentary on a question based on round upon round of assumption I derived from what a journalist had been saying. But we don't write our journals as history,exactly, or a science text, exactly, or as anything other than Higher Truth, perhaps. Without meaning to be profane, every journal in some ways is the Key to Science and Health in My Life, not a matter for literal, material absorption, but a key to a remote metaphysical journey to view some images the journalist wants us to see. So I found myself trying to apply journal notes to Real Life to "draw conclusions", and realized how utterly apples and orangish a practice this might be. In a third instance, I posted on the law board of vault.com a mild and fairly moderate defense of the modern version of Affirmative Action. One of the other posters there, while cloaking his/her views in tones that suggested that this was a sad lapse indeed due to my prior intelligent replies, pointed out that the poster did not believe I could reasonably with honesty to myself even hold the views I held. The poster's views, sadly tinged a bit WAY FAR to the right of my own, simply did not allow consideration of an alternative viewpoint.

These disturbing "one of these things is not like the other" aside,
I still rather like that I have in my mind virtually a completed fingerpainted mosaic of just who each of my friends is "really".
I know that fingerpaints do not really draw a very accurate picture. When I try to render that picture into words from time to time, I see the limitations in my art. I have learned in my work to trust my intuition, but not to trust my impressions of people. Indeed, my work credo has become NTA--never trust anyone. I am good at dealing with fraud cases, I find, because I am so easy to defraud. I can imagine how the person felt deceived, and try to prove the misstatements. I should mention in passing, by the way, that frauds are often the nicest people. They charm one utterly while they pull the wool over one's eyes. But leaving my work aside, in the Gurdonark gallery there are literally dozens of really neat fingerpaintings, each representing an LJ friend, a few representing an LJ I visit once in a while. I know that it is possible that each portrait is merely a portrait of Gurdonark's projections, splashed lightly with entries from your journal. But once in a great long while, the fingerpaints, if not exactly you, seem animated in just the most intriguing ways. Some mornings I can hardly wait to read, and dab a little more paint on a littlee more accurately. Maybe someday all the Gurdonark projection will be painted over, and I'll see only the journal(s) my friends wish to present. Wouldn't that be grand? It's odd, isn't it? It's not important whether one knows the LJ'er's "real name" or sees the LJ'ers picture. Those are nice little things, and I feel glad to see/know those things, but they aren't what matters. What matters is something else, which in church I might call a soul, but here, I'll call a LiveJournal.

Comments

[ex-sinnie785.livejournal.com]

This was wonderfully thought out and written post -- all except the 2nd to the last paragraph that had an X (variable)in it and, because it made me think of math began freaking me out. I will admit, freely, I skipped that paragraph and moved on to the next. *wink wink*

I've often wondered about the reasons "why" I keep a journal...and have wondered even more why I read what other people say here. For so long, journaling has been a private activity for me, a place to play with words and record the day's perceptions on my world. LJ has changed my notion of journaling to a degree -- this audience thing is just wickedly odd, an invitation to others to step inside my dreamscape.

Or is it? Maybe I like to think I'm putting honesty and depth on the virtual page (at least occasionally), that I'm stretching my mind and creative energies, that I'm connecting to like minded people and, because of that, I'm keeping whatever dreams of being a writer (or pretending to be a writer?) I had alive....maybe I like to think these things when, in reality, the dream is dead and I'm just a ghost-light or bit of swamp gas refusing to go away.

I will say this -- you inspire me more than you don't. And while that really has nothing to do with the price of tea in San Francisco or the theme of your post, it does tie in to what I'm thinking after reading your post -- and that is that sometimes I envy a person's ease with words, with connecting concrete thought and pattern artfully...but always, that envy is wrapped up with a willingness to learn and drink it in, and enjoy.

I do, indeed, enjoy you.

ghost lights and tea

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

What a kind reply. Thank you for sharing such a thoughtful comment. I particularly like that you mention ghost lights, as Gurdon, Arkansas, is a "ghost light" town. I loved to go and see that headless railwayman, hovering in mid-air, a bright orb-ish light, clearly discernible, sometimes, a winking, sometimes hovering like some ghost in Jonny Quest or Scooby Doo. What a fun way to spend an evening--watching a ghost light light!

I really enjoy the sense that I "see into" your life a bit, and of course, you are a writer--whether you ever publish or not. Once in a while, I'll pause and say to myself, "gee, this was in the journal a bit, but I haven't seen it mentioned in months"--one such fact arose from your journal, and I was just thinking the other day I ought to go back and see if I missed it. I think we all get too hung up on "am I a writer" and not hung up enough on "is this fun for me?". Your journal is always fun to read, and I'll bet it's fun to write. That counts for something in this tough old world--at least I think so. I guess besides the sour grapes factor the reason I decided long ago never to try to really "be a writer" is my theory that in the future, we should all be self-published, and not depend on publishing houses for money or critics for self-esteem. But in LJ, aren't we, a bit, living my theory? Much more fun than rejection slips.

[cathla143.livejournal.com]

What a great post!

I, too, have "painted" images of my LJ friends...

I know that I am guilty of slanting and omitting details, mostly for fear of someone figuring out some ugly truth about me. I don't want to seem needy or incompetent or pathetic...

Some LJers have a wonderful knack for words, and seem to write with flawless ease. You are one of those people. Keep the thought-provoking entries coming!

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Thank you for such a kind comment. Your journal always seems to me to give a good idea of your doubts and fears and failings, and if you'll take my humble opinion, I'd love to see more of your triumphs, successes and joys.
I never worry you slant out the bad, in other words--I'm always eager to see the good :).
Good or bad, though, I enjoy your journal, and I'm glad you enjoy mine. You have the best quotes in yours!

[marstokyo.livejournal.com]

When I saw the lj-cut tag about fingerpaintings, I *actually* thought I was going to click on some ARTwork of yours. I think the fleeting words *Oh boy!* ran through my mind as I clicked. I really wish you HAD done fingerpaintings of your LJ friends. :-( instead of just talking about it. You've got to get over this *poor pitiful me* attitude you have about making art.

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

I do love to fingerpaint, actually. My wife got me a set back when we were dating. I did one thing that my sister still hangs today.

Although actually set me up with a
cheap digicam, I've still not gone scanner or digital. I'm allergic to software, so I've got to get my brother the computer guy to come set me up.

But someday, I'll post my magnum opi. I promise!
I've been gratified with the mail art exchanges I've done. People have not been unkind at all.

Maybe I should devote all these "poor, poor pitiful me" posts to Warren Zevon. I don't know about you, but when he's got lung cancer, I feel a trifle older.

[gregwest98.livejournal.com]

I see I'm gonna have to drive down there and set that camera up for you. I shall prepare my most curmudgeonly attitude.

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

If I knew it could be a ruse to achieve that result, I'd have posted on it weekly.

Re:

[marstokyo.livejournal.com]

He's got lung cancer? Must have been all that time in smokey clubs as a Werewolf of London.

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

yes, it was on the 'net a short while back, very sad....a life hard-lived, I guess, and goes with the territory.

[nacowafer.livejournal.com]

I think you're very perceptive. And I think this fingerpainting is something we all do, consciously or not. I'm not being very profound, but it's early, yet. Here's a fun example: When I first found marstokyo's journal, she had this user icon of a 50's lady with a newly-cleaned pot (I think--it was homemaker-ish). And that's how I thought of her! Especially since she had just been writing about throwing (fictitious!?!?) dinner parties for Lionel Trilling. Oh, and writing novels about girl inventors. And having her huge paintings produced by workers in China. So perhaps my probing eye is not as keen as yours, but I do tend to see things in techni-color. Or neon. Actually, I like the neon thing--like Lite Brite, it's connect-the-dots, which is also like LiveJournal. And there are gaps, but it's still mesmerizing to look at and admire and ponder.

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Now you're reminding me of the night I first met my wife. As I've journaled, we were riding on the same plane, and met during the flight.
Before we told one another what we did, I thought she was an architect, because she was reading architecture digest, or a teacher, for the same reason. She thought I was a rancher!
I must have that rancher ambience.

That's funny about your image of MarsTokyo.
I believe she pops up early in the nacowafer
journal, so I guess you must have met her during one of your earlier weblog phases.
I pretty much had the idea who she was when I first started interfacing with her, but that was because her LJ was particularly informative at that time.

I do remember an on line friend who said "imagine how I look, and describe me".
I was only 178 degrees off.

But it's fun to flesh out these paintings, and then paint over as more facts are known. In some cases, I don't assign even genders to the journalist in my mind, but have a comprehensive idea anyway of who they are. In others, I even posit very picayune details that I could not have gleaned from the journals.

In all cases, a part of me, deep down, knows that everybody is so different, everybody is so much the same.

[nacowafer.livejournal.com]

I like that "imagine how I look" prompt. I imagine everyone I like to be gorgeous and everyone who irks me to be ugly. I, of course, look like Joan Fontaine. (Pah!)

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

It's funny you say that, because the way in which I was wrong some years ago was
indicative of just what you're saying. The experience was very good for me, though.
I always try to assume that who people are is not a matter of how they look, and
I always try to assure people that I'm plain and uninteresting in real life. I hate to see all those pheronomes which are an essential and not at all discreditable part of certain aspectgs of real life get so tangled up in 'net stuff, which should work differently. Sometimes they do, but I like to think that we can all transcend, because it is not quite a 7th grade dance, and we're no longer as cool (or not!) as we all were then.

[uscwriter.livejournal.com]

What I have learned as both a journalist and a fiction writer, as well as a constant reader of any words that pass my way, is that a writer can create a situation for any reader, whether it is from a newspaper reader or a novel reader- or, in this case, a journal reader. In regards to fictional reading, isn't that the fun of reading versus watching the movie version? I would always rather create the character in my head from the writer's creation... for example, my favorite ALL TIME book is "The Lords of Discipline" by Pat Conroy (plug,plug). My paperback copy is so worn that I have glued the pages back in some spots. I refused to see the movie for years, finally watching it after coming across it on cable. It was not the same as in my mind (gasp)!I had to find them again in my mind's eye.

Isn't it kind of the se for journals? I have a hard time creating the pictures of people I read about... I always want to associate them with the avatar/picture they use- some of which disturb me.

But maybe that's the draw to these online journals... you can create yourself, which no one will contradict because they don't know you, or I can create you, which you won't contradict because you don't know what I have created in my mind.

(I need another cup of coffee after that thought...)

I keep a paper journal as well. I would like to think someone will read it after I am gone and see the picture of my life. A day in any of our lives is as important as anyone else's.

Kim

PS- I understand your fears about art. I am learning how to use the visual arts and it scares the hell out of me, because I have never done it. I have no confidence in what I am doing, unlike my writing, which I think I can do well- if I actually do it...

PPS-
Here's a finger paint recipe, if you are so inclined-
1/4 cup corn starch
2 cups cold water
food coloring

Mix all ingredients in sauce pan, except food coloring. Boil until mixture thickens. Cool. Pour into jars. Add food coloring.

(Sorry- it's the mom in me. Some of these things come in handy...)

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

I think those are very perceptive points on journals, and I think the same "sub-created world" argument applies to all writing. I always like that idea, common to fantasy writers, that one is "sub-creating" a world different from the world in which one actually lives. A LiveJournal is a fascinating way to explore the ways this is somehow true.

Thanks for the fingerpaint resume. I'll give it a try.

[(Anonymous)]

really interesting post

lj's are in some ways better than fiction. i came accros an lj a few months ago and i got hooked on its quirky prose. then i found out it was a phantom journal, a complete and utter fiction. the lj rubric nicely allows for meetings of minds in comment boxes, and i would spar w/ the phantom journalist now and then in her comment box...this is where lj is better than fiction-- you can correspond w a fictional character, it's a dynamic system

i had gone sour on fiction as a genre but this phantom lj expanded my notion of what fiction can be, and gave me a kind of primal enjoyment of character and story

the thrill of fiction always comes down to identity issues...and yr metaphoric fingerpainting is a map of not only an lj-er's identity, but yr own...as all portraits are in a sense selfportraits

that said, i prefer if to remain anonymous...how would you paint me?

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Anonymous posters to my journal, though relatively few in number, seem to come in several different shades of gray. A few are people I've known for years, some of whom start their comments with "Hi, I'm x". A few are people I know slightly, who may or may not identify themselves. Once in a while, the anonymous commenter hits on a theme in just the way a close friend of mine might, but without identifying her/himself. But in each case, I have a mental image of the commenter, even if the commenter's face changes, like a movie graphic, to from an old friend to a stranger. The commenters are always wise and capable, though, and I am always just me.

colorbar

[nancyjane.livejournal.com]

interesting and very timely...

i was just recently talking with my friend porthos of how, someone on my friend's list appears many times to speak the same language as i do, be in similar environments, even be of a similar age, and yet, come to the conclusions of "not x" from my writing many times when i was CLEARLY implying "X" in my mind !! it's always a humbling experience for me, but i'm glad for it...

its nice to have this colorbar test here, preparing me to appreciate the much larger spectrum...

my husband sometimes will remind me that he can't read my mind, which always comes as a surprise to me ! but, he does extremely well, so, i suppose that's why so many times i forget... my not so x pal is a continual reminder how much i can enjoy the same things, lead a similar life, speak the same way and refer to the same jokes, stories, even have the same opinions in many cases... and yet come away from any and each experience with completely different interpretations. somehow i find it so totally comforting to know that will always be the case, i suppose it validates our individualities.

anyway, so i read your piece here to be a similar trek down this metaphysical understanding :) ..

Re: colorbar

[gurdonark.livejournal.com]

Yes, that is a very good comment. I have read more than one journal in which a post "should be leading" to one conclusion, but in fact comes to an altogether different conclusion.

We are all the same, but we sure all take different paths sometimes :)