Saturday, October 27, 2012

Living Art

It’s now leading into what can be considered Friday night. I’m a 30 year old woman who has decided to spend that time pondering over a quote she found on facebook this morning.

“She lives the poetry she cannot write” ~ Oscar Wilde

Now- because I may just love literature more than Hubby, I know, hands down, that was misquoted; it should read ‘HE lives the poetry HE cannot write’.
Kind of a kick in the pants considering this quote was found on a commemorative fan page called ‘Oscar Wilde’. The quote is taken from what could be considered Wilde’s most known work: The Picture of Dorian Gray...

Me and Oscar, we’re gonna party when my time is up here. I could really love that man….that is…if he wasn’t dead…and also gay. But that’s beside the point…

The meaning of that quote within its context implies that those we recognize as great poets write of the life they desire; it suggests that the great poets have not lived most of what they write. In fact, it’s the ones that live the life most would only write about that would make for a tired poet; they’re too busy living life, experiencing everything that life can offer. There’s no expression left as the expression and release happens through action and a state of being as opposed to words on a blank page. His life is, in essence, what we would normally consider beautiful poetry without having to read it in print. It’s the beauty of being. Lives that are lived in such a way, they could be considered a form of art.


Because I don’t really believe in mistakes (although I still call them that all the damn time) I would say I was meant to read: She lives the poetry she cannot write.

It provoked me, because the truth is... it happens to be  a statement that can be interpreted many different ways as it stands to the side of its original context.

The fact is, as a writer, whichever of my truths I cannot bring myself to write about and share with the outside world,  happens to be the same reoccurring truth I keep living without fail—It is destined to forever be the truth of my reality so long as I hold my story  within me. When it comes to me, one could say " She lives the poetry she cannot write" 

Imagine that.  

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