DARYL PARSON

WRITING

EXHIBITING: RISE OF THE COSMIC FIRE II Tour, 24.11.-9.12.2018

 

 

ABOUT DARYL P.

 

 How did it all start? Was there a significant event or was it more a continuous progress that brought you to what you are doing today?

I’ve always found myself drawn to the potency of the written word. The power of vowels and consonants to evoke imagery in the mind's eye, inspiring emotion and effecting change. The challenge in writing is to coax the glyphs and sigils of language into a form which may succinctly express the intent of the author. More personally, it stems from a moment in life when I had very little save the words in my head. When all around was turmoil and uncertainty, and lacking a stable home, I retreated to a private mindscape fueled by literature. Without the means or immediate talent to express myself through art or music; I found writing the most effective way to define my identity, as well as reach out to other like-minded souls. Honing these skills has been a long journey, yet it is one which has hardly begun.

 

What does it mean to you to write?

Writing is the act of transforming the ephemeral into a usable form. Primal thoughts lurk in the depths of the subconscious, barely expressible. To achieve a state where they may begin to be understood they must be dragged through layers of syntax and form. This is seldom a straightforward process.

The end result is never the same as the thought which inspired it. The saddest irony of expression is one cannot truly encapsulate the depth and breadth of the primordial chaos within. By distilling the essence of identity into linear language, we lose some of its potency. I strive to carefully craft words to the best of my ability, meticulously choosing the exact tone and timbre to adequately express what I must. Picking at and pulling intent through a morass of metaphor.

 

What would happen if one would prevent you from writing?

Writing is a means to an end. An abstraction, and one I’m not immediately terrible at. Were I unable to write, the thoughts and emotions within would still exist, necessitating other means. Through injury and ill opportunity I have often found my chosen outlets denied to me, but I have learned to work around these setbacks. If I could no longer write, I would find another way. I must.

 

Where are you drawing inspiration from?

Inspiration comes from all around, often at the most inopportune moments. A turn of phrase could spring fully formed at the front of my mind, or an unsettling abstract concept could nestle at the core of existence – demanding exploration and understanding before committing to words.

 

Are there some certain principles or guidelines you apply when writing? Not only with regards to your texts themselves but also to the environment you write in, your surroundings, the atmosphere?

The challenge, when dredging words from the abyss, is to find focus. Procrastination is a vice which ill suits my temperament, yet proves seductive distraction. Frustration is common, as I cannot always focus as well as I need to. I often isolate myself from those closest to me as a result - when perhaps their feedback could offer fresh perspective. Music helps as it always does – and my tastes tend to the extreme. The hard part is finding that space of mind where I can block everything else out and concentrate on the essence of expression. As for how I say it, I try to have a little fun along the way. Words can be great playthings as well as sombre tools. I aim for a lilting alliteration, and can seldom restrain my penchant for puns. The words aren’t done when they finally make it out. Feedback loops of refinement bring it all into form, editing and re-editing until the point is perfected.

 

What do you feel when you write?

I feel a purging. The words build up in fragments of barely conceived thought, lurking on the periphery of existence, and they must be tamed. Tone and resonance squeezed through the strict syntax of language, syllable by sinuous syllable. When it works, I take pleasure in the end result. Looking back on a turn of phrase that perfectly expresses my intent is a rare treat, but a most enjoyable one.

 

Why are you writing? What is the purpose behind? Is there a grand philosophy why you choose the word as your form of art?

It is crucial that one play to their strengths. Although the years have offered many different opportunities for self-expression, writing still best represents my ‘True Will’. A skill honed over the years, and one which is uniquely mine; speaking as it does from the self-defined sequence of simile which constitutes my perspective on the universe.

Art of any form is a fractured mirror we hold up to ourselves; to bridge the void between souls in the hope of glimpsing a sympathetic other in the reflection.

 

What did you always wanted to tell but nobody asked the right question?

For all the meagre words which make it through, there remain a multitude unexpressed. Thoughts and sensations which defy definition and dance, sylph-like, just beyond my grasp. Mocking any attempt to understand them. My perspective is locked by the languages I know, and I wonder if there is an absolute truth at the heart of all existence. A core of essence shared by all, fragmented and shattered through differences in language and individual experience. Are all our stories just different aspects of the same fundamental saga?