the solipsist in love

Something that makes you say “yes, yes!!”

I was at a coffee shop today with my friend Lana (not her real name). We make writing dates and she chooses places within walking distance from her house, because she knows all the cafes with free wi-fi and her neighborhood is slammin’. It happened that today’s destination featured some installation art: one-page written pieces by an assorted collection of individuals, Lana being one of them. During one of my frequent breaks I wandered over to read hers.

Standing there, with my knees buckled into the faux leather couch against the wall, my back hunched unattractively to bring my eyes a little closer to her piece, glue-sticked to a sheet of cardstock, I smiled and felt small emptinesses crumbling within me, caving in from the joyful pressure of sincere recognition. I came back to our laptop-clad table grinning. “I liked your piece,” I said sheepishly.

“But what is it? It’s nothing,” she complained. “It’s not a story.”

“It doesn’t matter!” I knew my stumbling praise was ineffectual. We’re both planning on applying to MFA programs in the fall. Requirements: a written portfolio, anywhere between 20 to 40 pages long, depending on the school. They want to see promise; they want to see structure. Short stories or, less attractively, a chapter of a novel. So where does this beautiful, curious creature fit into that framework? Right now, maybe it doesn’t. But it’s perfect exactly the way it is.

This gives me hope for my writing. Maybe the stunning, jagged beauty of life doesn’t need to be captured in some conventional form in order to be successful as art – as something that moves you. Can I be okay with that? Similarly, could it be that I might be seen as complete, whole, without polishing my jagged edges or fitting myself into a role, a standard, a predetermined form?

I want to show this piece to everyone. This, I think, is what real art is. This is what I want my writing to be. The inarticulate soul finds resonance in a worldly something, hears its own song being sung. And it’s goddamn beautiful.