When I wrote this weblog from mid-2010 through 2012 it was my first expressive foray into the cyber sphere. It was written as my main contribution while being a Board member of Women In Film Seattle. I owe a debt to that group of women. Their willingness to give the weblog a home within the organization legitimized it, gave me a reason to go public in my explorations as a writer. A gift.
A parting thought. Perhaps it’s obvious to you from a quick glance at these screenpages but unless you’ve a want to settle in and slow down, which I myself struggle to do when engaged with this rapidly mutating digital medium, you may think twice, or less, about entering here. The filmstories taken under wing in these writings are, to my mind, engaged in a practice of evolving meaning. Such evolution is mostly glacial, having an effect as drops of water into a sea on the amorphous “OverNarrative” that is continually beating the drums all around us and through which we try to define ourselves and derive our reason for being.
THE LAST DISCOURSE
In which I explain what I mean by this term the “narrative otherways.”
In truth what follows here in our final Parlor belongs at the beginning. It takes a bit of getting used to, the directional momentum of this weblog form that forces what is written first to the end of a potentially endless “page” and out of sight. In the oldworld of print (my youth) what I write now would have been first to be read, before all the rest.
This is a long way around saying the first pieces I wrote for this Salon&Parlor, the underpinnings of the theory constructed here, have long since drifted to the bottom. This is because the original and still primary reason for our digital push is technological innovation. The highest value yet being placed on the very latest, the most new and shiny surface. So when it comes to writing, that practice which predates the digital, the once dependable linear development of a body of thought is tossed and turned.
I in no way feel this as all loss. The writing here reflects my learning the curve of the digital steep. It has allowed me to build my thinking through time, piece by piece with all the side bars and discussions and suggestions of filmstories in between so that the ideas here have been field tested in a sort of practice as you preach method. Instead of that once familiar steady progression of thought page after page the act of writing this weblog became to my mind, especially in the public, egalitarian crowd nature of it, more spherical, akin to those animated models of viruses – the ones with the prongs all round like deep water mines.
Oh dear. Now I’ve fallen quite off the spine. So to get back on track we will begin…er…end…er…begin the ending!
It must be said that I, a mere pamphleteer, an eager humanist, write with nothing to lose. I am by choice a provincial – ever attentive to the deep of the cultural stream – but a provincial nonetheless. A woman at late middle age, I realize now that as a writer I have sought neglect. However that may influence my perspective, I first want to directly address: