I've spent the last few days thinking about how I wanted to kick off this blog, and the past few hours writing up a lengthy post that examined the connection between human experience and writing, and how my own writing changed as I came to terms with what I wanted to write about versus how I wanted to express myself. It tried to capture the essence of what it feels like to write something true - even if it's only a few sentences in an otherwise verbose and overlong article - and how the pursuit of that over being merely witty or clever was a goal I was just starting to realize when I stopped writing altogether, for various reasons. Then I wanted to go into detail about what I wanted to do with this site and give a glimpse into some of the ideas and topics I've been ruminating over and...
...and you get the idea. It just kept going on and on, and while there's some really good stuff in there, it makes for a pretty drab introduction (or re-introduction) back to my online writing. Hence this much shorter (by about 1,000 words at this point) opening post to Stranded Below Nirvana. The short version is over to your left: examining a man's life via the media he consumes, which seems to imply nothing but reviews but my hope is to go a little further and take a look at why I'm absorbing the things things I am and connect it to, if possible, the myriad events that make up my life.
And since I'm not getting paid to do this, I don't have any obligation to review the latest Hollywood blockbuster or indie auteur film. I don't have to cater to a target demographic when deciding what book to read, or see what's trending on Pitchfork to decide on the music I should write about (although I'll likely do all of that). Instead I'll write about the things that interest me, and attempt to examine this one peculiar life that by all rights I should know better than any other, but don't. Which sounds awfully highfalutin when you consider the next couple of entries in this thing will most likely be horror reviews, but that just comes with the territory, right?
Or, as a far better writer than I put it:
And I know I am solid and sound / To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow / All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.
- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass