Welcome! I’m sincerely glad you’ve stopped by. A writer without readers would be no fun at all.
You may be wondering, ‘What exactly is a jellyfish cloud?!‘
At least I hope you are…
Here’s my best answer: About seven years ago, I felt forced to confront my mortality after a diagnosis of breast cancer. During those challenging months, I researched every option, made choices, and came through the fire with a minor surgery. I’d refused chemo and radiation, for reasons I won’t go into here.
One afternoon, I’d just had a personal revelation with regard to the preciousness of Life as I know it. I stepped outside my home, looked up at the sky, and hanging there were the strangest clouds I’d ever seen. The best word to describe the fat puffs with long, thin hanging tentacles was ‘jellyfish’. Rare and unusual and right there above the house. What an exciting, affirming moment! Later, after I’d calmed down, I tried finding photographs of anything that might resemble them. My camera had no film, and I didn’t own a digital at the time.
It wasn’t until a few days before I started this blog I found an image that could somewhat represent the clouds I’d seen. It’s here on the sidebar. I am borrowing it from the UK’s Daily Mail site. Clearly, they were mystified, too, albeit several years later! The clouds I saw looked much more like real jellyfish as the hanging strands were thin and wispy. Still, it’s close enough.
The afternoon I saw those clouds, I felt the overwhelming urge to use ‘Jellyfish Clouds’ as the title of a book. (Altocumulus Castellanus wouldn’t cut it.) I haven’t written that book, so opt instead to use it here, for the blog. The clouds seemed to capture for me the deliriously inexplicable range of possibility and experience that I perceive as my Life.
Let me offer a little foundation here.
My experiences, inner and outer, are crystals grown from the matrix of my perception.
My writing flows from my perceptions of these experiences.
Seems obvious, right? Don’t all writers do that? Actually, no. Not from what I’ve read. And I’ve read thousands of books, countless articles, and yes, a good number of blogs. I find fiction writers seem more likely to tune in to their own experience, however any good writer must also pull from her life, even if working on an article about something she may never have heard of before the assignment. The shape of the article will derive from her background combined with how she perceives the new experience. If limited by constraints of time, editors, publication guidelines or demographics of a target audience, an entirely different article might result than if she were given freedom such as I have here.
What I’ve learned over the years is more about perception of the experience, than the experience itself. And I play with that perception, that I may continue to learn even more.
What I might perceive as a beauty filled moment by a pond in a forest, another might perceive as a senseless waste of time. Still, I choose what I want in that moment, as does the other person, consciously or not. Neither is right or wrong; it is rather our mind’s response that makes it different.
Shakespeare said, “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
Many writers stumbling with their first assignments or stories are told, “Write what you know.”
How do we know what we know? From our perceived experience. We utilize the tools we’ve collected for ourselves over time. Beyond grammar, punctuation and form, is content. Content arises when we mine the caves of time and cull from thought-fields what best symbolizes the concept we hope to communicate.
We may not know if others accurately perceive what it is we intend when we write. I might write something I find wickedly funny and a reader might perceive it as rudely insulting. Did I not communicate clearly? Or does our experience prevent common ground?
Sometimes a reader might miss what a writer sincerely intends. Other times, the whole shebang lands perfectly in the center of the big red X.
There. What came to mind when you read that? Where is your big red X? Is it on the ground like the one a sky-diver aims for with his parachute? Is it in the center of a bulls-eye on a dart board? Is it where two bearing lines of a nautical chart cross to assure you of your actual fixed position? Whatever your experience, your thoughts will lead to a particular impression that will yield your personal response.
It’s when we begin to judge the response, our experience suffers. My X is more important than your X, for example.
Chapter 25, Section III of A Course in Miracles reads:
“To the extent to which you value guilt, to that extent will you perceive a world in which attack is justified. To the extent to which you recognize that guilt is meaningless, to that extent you will perceive attack cannot be justified. This is in accord with perception’s fundamental law: You see what you believe is there, and you believe it is there because you want it there. Perception has no other law than this.” T-25.III.1-4.
You see what you believe is there. Not just on a page, or browser, but in the world at large. You want it there. The way you want to see it.
Knowing this, I am able to easily choose the world I want to see. And I enjoy writing about it, sharing what are only my perceptions of my world. Sometimes, my perceptions bend the world and my writing reflects strange notions that may not appeal to all readers. Or I could write about an event that seems to have captured the world’s attention, but I will only be able to communicate from my perception of the event. The reporter on the front lines of a battle will perceive an entirely different world than will the fourth grade teacher whose students will have a test on the subject in a week.
Anais Nin said, “We don’t see things as they are. We see them as we are.”
And I agree.
Slant, bias, take, angle. All are words related to perspective and perception. In this blog, you’ll get mine. I may write highlights from my travels, or a film review, a how-to-do-something, or my opinion of a national debate. I won’t write diatribes or conduct bitching sessions. Though I might offer some thought on possible solutions for projected problems. Just don’t expect a particular theme or subject. Whimsical, fact-based, purposeful or aimless – it’ll all stem from my perception. You can decide whether I’ve landed on the big red X, or altogether missed
My intention is to share my perceptions of my world that your experience might be somehow enhanced. If this blog should eventually be perceived as unique as jellyfish clouds, wonderful! Meanwhile, I can only hope you enjoy the experience.
Thank you for joining me, and
Shine on!
Debra
“What the caterpillar calls the end, the rest of the world calls a butterfly.” Lao-tzu
© Debra J. Rigas and Jellyfish Clouds, 2010
