Who am I? I am I.

This post was originally about the art of writing. What it means to me. What it provides me. Even what it costs me. And because I often give myself grief for not taking writing (this blog, for example) more seriously and also because I think I'd really enjoy a career as a science writer (also, for example) or simply an environmental journalist. And since, as a journalist-in-training, I want to be a bit more prepared and informed, I started researching "writing" so as to include quotes and stats about writing, thereby sounding more intelligent, continuing the charade.

That's when I came upon a website dedicated to the written word of one of my favorite scribes: Tom Robbins. It did not simply feature examples of Robbins' writing; rather, it contained the written word of Robbins and words about writing by Robbins. One such line, taken from an interview of Robbins (that I will now separate from the original blog post so as to provide greater emphasis):

I'm not an animal, I'm a zoo

Wow. He did it again. He has described me as I could never have. But that's not surprising: the man has an uncanny way of expressing himself, using words together in ways I believe no one else does. That's part of the magic of experiencing a Tom Robbins novel.

The idea of being an entire zoo, however, not just one animal, speaks to my varied interests, my deep curiosity, my love of so many different ideas that sometime I feel I'm stretched too thin. Being just one animal in a cage is easy. You have no one to worry about. You have mainly one view of the world and it is a closed world. Sure, you grow more curious as the days go by, looking out into the world through steel bars which both shield the world from you and you from the world. It's comfortable.

But to be the whole zoo, with its many different views, its many different competing passions and parties, its almost convoluted sense of its place in the still larger world; that's the world I live in. It's hard, sometimes, to simply focus on just one thing...this blog, for example, when there are things like Facebook, and music reviews, and books, and my cats, and the way that shadow falls on the carpet there, and ENOUGH!! But when I do focus I'm brought right back home. It's easy here. This? This is all I've got to worry about? I'm sold. I'm home. It's a wonder why I even left at all.