crumbs of wisdom: Patty Griffin

Saturday, June 18, 2016

Forgiveness

"Forgiveness. The ability to forgive oneself. Stop here for a few breaths and think about this because it is the key to making art, and very possibly the key to finding any semblance of happiness in life. Every time I have set out to translate the book … that exists in such brilliant detail on the big screen of my limbic system onto a piece of paper, … I grieve for my own lack of talent and intelligence. Every. Single. Time. Were I smarter, more gifted, I could pin down a closer facsimile of the wonders I see. I believe, more than anything, that this grief of constantly having to face down our own inadequacies is what keeps people from being writers. Forgiveness, therefore, is key. I can’t write the book I want to write, but I can and will write the book I am capable of writing. Again and again throughout the course of my life I will forgive myself."

-- Ann Patchett, “The Getaway Car: A Practical Memoir about Writing and Life” in This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage

"Everybody needs a little forgiveness." -- Patty Griffin, "Living with Ghosts"

from "Crumbs of Wisdom" by Penelope Lively:

Elaine, a writing teacher, has taken her class on a field trip to the home of Ruth Harrap, an aging romance writer.

"What we’re all wondering," Elaine went on brightly, "is, what advice would you give to the aspiring writer?"

"The who?"

"Aspiring writer. The, you know, person who wants to write."

"You needn’t spell it out," said Ruth Harrap tartly, displaying her first sign of animation. "I couldn’t hear you, that’s all." She paused. "Don’t. That’s what I’d say."

Elaine laughed merrily. "Oh, I do understand. I mean, in my humble way I’ve toiled in the vineyard as well. I know. It’s grueling. Punishing. But the rewards, Miss Harrap! And I don’t of course mean financial rewards. The artistic satisfaction. All that."

There was a silence. The author stared at Elaine, her face knotted in disapproval. "That may be your experience, for what it’s worth. It’s not mine. I never wrote but for cash. I wanted to be a buyer in a department store. Never got promotion. Ten years in china and gifts, I was, and then all those books, and I don’t know which was worst." She heaved herself to her feet again. "You’d better have some tea before you go. How many with sugar?"