11th November 2024, Oslo
After writing a few essays here, I want to take a moment to reflect on what I'm actually doing—consider this the preface that never was.
The word "essay" comes from the French word essai, which means a "try" or an "attempt." Montaigne is often credited as the originator of this style, writing short pieces about ideas he wanted to explore and untangle. So, the question becomes, what am I attempting?
Almost all my writing here is done in one sitting with no editing. It’s a form of improvisation. I feel extremely free, able to stretch and leap into different places with my words as wings. I think I’ve always wanted to do this, but the time was never right, and I never had the place to do so.
It feels right now, with the site styled exactly how I want it and with Obsidian as my writing tool. I can write as fast as I think and really go places.
Of course, there’s a voice in me that wonders if I’m being narcissistic or pretentious with what I do here, but you know what? Who cares? I’m a diva, I’ve realized, and letting myself flourish in all that I am is worth it.
I've always envisioned writing as something paced, with a voice. I want it to be kinetic. I want it to have drama. I want to hear a voice in writing, and I hope you hear mine. The short sentences are good—Hemingway knew that. But so are the longer ones that pull you in, turn you around, and give you something to feel.
I also want writing to be dreamlike. I love being able to move through time, from past to present to a future that may or may not exist. I want to meditate on the textures of an ocean that I may or may not have seen. I have traveled to many places, both real and imagined, and they’re all fictional in a true sense.
I’ve never been able to do this in a linear way. When I think of writing a memoir or keeping a diary, I’d much rather weave in scenes from my life than lay it out chronologically. Sometimes things go together better when you can pick and choose from a life. Our family has had two generations of dogs that never overlapped, but in my mind, I’m holding them all as puppies in my arms.
What I’m trying to do here is to move through my memories with a freedom that comes from playing with words. To recombine and remix what I’ve known and felt. To speak to all sides of myself, and in doing so, perhaps speak to you too.