02 April 2010

Analysis of an Abstract

Analysis of an Abstract

Matthew J. Banks

     Ever changing, malleable and emotional, every day the written word is available for everyone to read. While the world changes we can be informed of what we need while remaining the same. The writing style of an author may influence their readers positively or negatively, intentionally or unintentionally. Most writers strive to remain an outlet of apt description while attempting relevancy to the topic. Though it may be easy to define a writing style, it may be impossible to do accurately by ourselves and by others.

     I find the tornado to be best fitting of a representation of my journalistic/journalized writing having moved through facts, information, events, history, consuming and releasing a new scene behind me. A tornado is the dangerous result of two climates combining, my writing is similar as a combination of my intent to write combined with a request of me to write something on paper, similarly destructive and unfortunate. What lay behind my creative path is a new esoteric speech or science fiction short story, opinion essay, rhetorical fictional horoscope or editorial of and about nothing or nature, or something. The energy in that out, I cannot define nature and my writings do not destroy the past but tear into the future.

     I was never one to appreciate writing early in school, but was one for reading. Never correlating the connection between the two, I continued my childhood as any other child, stumbling and telling stories with a creative dissidence, not knowing that some of the greatest works of my time and the times past had been fictional works of literature themselves. My mother attended a weekly poetry society event during her years of college held at a fellow alumni’s house, to which I attended. It gave me the opportunity to listen to the writings of the professors as well as students, while forming my own opinion of what a writing style should be and on rare occasion I participated in the event if I wasn’t asleep in the late hours. Their voices calm and monotone, the lengthy pages seeming to stretch loftily into the night, I spent many a late evening drifting off to the sound of one or more of her professors reading page after page of poetry in stanza.

     I often idolized the writers and their ability, as much as I was captivated, at such a young age, by the images thrown into my mind. After becoming an English teacher, my mother had her own version, a poetry club for students. It was another weekly effort to provide cultural enhancements to a generation of television and twenty-four hour news. Having not the ability to go home during her afterschool poetry society, I attended and took an interest anew in the writing if not begrudgingly. The admiration of writers came about strongly at this time because sitting and trading whimsical tales and lore, once again seemed to bond together the many different types of common people. Oft given is a unanimous appreciation of the participants, if not also a chance to learn from each other in a more traditional nature by our actions.

     Writing for me is an attempt at seeking adoration without being there in person, a simple form of remote criticism and ethicality. An addictive thrill is each creative work when admired after each unique creation. My intention is to supersede the last creative literary work in depth and detail, to satisfy the imaginative minds of the audience. I desire a writing style that not only builds on intended structure, the rough draft being the base and subsequent drafts until I finish a work. I often build literature with a strong theoretical base and build upward, with drafts, grammar and syntax until I fill the pinnacle point.

     I want my writing style to be innovating, new and conceptual, as well as informative, every time drawing a picture in the mind. As for each creation’s proper symbolism, the first picture of the slides is my desired intention. I admire the way that it maintains a visual fabric, while the metaphor plays out on different levels, with its Art Deco, early 1930’s industrial American multicolored oil painting image with earth tones of two separate graphing arrows on a figures chart with a sporadically bounding movement. Each of the lines seem to separate with a skewed aspect, with little people dancing and fully aware to their location as they watch the lines of the chart progress, a position of observance in both reality and idealism. My literary aspirations involve creating a scene within a scene, for a creative depiction of a process and its actions and results, and include the true setting, where only those involved can observe the actions of the story.