I remember a professor in college where the assignment was to write about something personal. Something that struck you, rocked your world, shook you to the core, something that you never wrote about before. Something so personal, dig down in your gut, find out what you are made of when it comes to writing, and just write from that emotion.
I was a junior in college when I got this assignment. I was as cold as ice in my emotions at this point in my life. Nothing could hurt me, nothing could take me, nothing, and I mean nothing, could phase me. This assignment called for me to what? Write with emotions? Write from my heart? What the??
I remember sitting in front of my computer and agonizing about the release of my emotions on paper. You see, I was at that time, tangled and knotted in my own ball of yarn. When in public I could pull maybe about a yard of that yarn, manage a smile or two, and for that moment stretch the thread about as far as I could extend. My length never reached as far as I wanted and stopped short of acceptance.
That night of the assignment, I finally did write. I started to unravel that ball of yarn, slow pace, but I started from that one loose piece and I went back to where the yarn was encompassed in a warm nest.
I was proud of my essay, and I was emotionally strained from the release, but damn it, I was proud! I remember turning that essay in to my teacher and feeling that for the first time I wrote from my heart, I wrote with my emotions.
You cannot imagine my surprise when my professor handed back my paper with red marked comments, suggestions, all for improvement. I can handle critique of my writing style, my grammatical errors, those I could fix. What I could not handle was the want of elaboration. Elaborate more how this made you feel? Elaborate how you changed? Elaborate? ELABORATE!!
You just asked me to write about the most personal thing that has happened in my life! Something that rocked me, shocked me, left my world topsy-turvy! Write with emotion, write with heart…release the writer’s pain?
Don’t circle me in red, question my pain, my emotions, my personal feelings. Circle my grammar, my improper pronoun, my dangling participle, my miss-use of a noun, or even my spelling. Do not question me on my pain!
Too make this long story short, I chose not to change a single word in my essay. I succumbed to a mediocre grade to a project that I had never felt more pride towards. I submitted that essay as part of my internship applications, as a showcase of my writing capability. Writing is like beauty. It lies in the eyes of the beholder.
My essay was published in a local paper and I was offered an intern my senior year of college. It was that same year that I questioned, “can I write?” or better yet, “do I want to write?”
My essay was about the death of my father my freshman year of college. My emotions to his death had been locked away for those years and many years after. My only writing after that internship existed only in my journals…until this blog.
So the assignment at hand on the blogging university is how to brand yourself?
Audit your brand. Audit.
I am not oblivious to needing some, okay, maybe a lot, of tweaking to my blog. Aesthetically speaking, and maybe even within my content. Who I am is maybe not ready for the blog world. I am after all gaining, achieving, and dreaming.
My blog is not my name. It is fiction of a life. It is a metaphor of sorts. It is a dream of where I was and where I am going. It is a memory in sadness, humor, and love. It is a compilation of the stories that I have yet to write. It is inspirations, hopes, and above all dreams.
There are so many names I could call this blog, so many taglines I could use, so many things I could change. I hate change. I especially hate change when it means altering something I created that makes me proud.
Welcome to my blog. Louie Behogan.
I hope to brand this name as one that stimulates and embraces creativity, accepts it all, and never defines, allows the experiment, and more importantly, encourages stepping outside the norm.
“Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.”