Why I Write
by Abena Ntoso
Inspired by the eponymous essays by George Orwell and Joan Didion, I am taking the time to explore, express, and rationalize an activity that is ultimately wholly unreasonable. Indeed, it is inconceivable to some that a woman with two children and a full-time teaching job should insist on spending several hours a day spilling her thoughts and ideas onto a page and deliberating over combinations of words. For what? they might ask. How can this possibly make a difference? What's the point of all this? Why are you wasting your time?
Overcoming the tyranny of such questions was one of the many mental roadblocks I have had to cross in order to give myself the time, space and permission to write professionally. So I write this essay partly as a letter to myself, so that I can always explain to myself why I make the choice to write each day and why it matters.
Writing is an act of resilience. It is through writing that I develop a greater awareness of myself and of the world around me. It is through writing that I play with language and ideas, exploring possibilities and experiencing pure freedom. It is through writing that I continually craft a sense of self that is independent of social constructs, preconceived notions, and expectations. It is through writing that I practice using my voice and communicating with a sense of integrity and purpose.
Much of my writing starts with the desire to explore questions and ideas. I don't explore in order to find answers or explanations; I explore in order to engage more deeply and to imagine more creatively. Sometimes it is possible to do research and to understand more fully, but often I never come up with answers, explanations or solutions; it is simply the asking of a question or the willingness to embark on a journey that makes writing interesting and worthwhile. Sometimes writing leads me to discover interesting insights or tidbits of information; more often than not, my explorations lead to more questions, more ideas, and more imaginative and creative possibilities.
Together with drawing and painting, writing pushes me to observe more closely, to notice details about the external world and my internal experiences. We live in an era that prides production over profundity, quantity over quality, efficiency over efficacy. Entering adulthood in such an industrial climate, we gradually learn to ignore the vast majority of stimuli around us, tending to focus only on that which provides an immediate financial or emotional payoff. There is no immediate profit or achievement to be gained from documenting my fascination with the shriveled metallic blue party balloon still hanging from the lowest branch of a pine tree in my neighborhood park. Nor is there any obvious utility in further pondering this deflated remnant of a bygone celebration and recording the ideas, questions, and associations that arise even as it marks a lingering nostalgia at the end of a distinctly peopled joy. Practicing observation and developing insight is time consuming, and it may not meet social standards for productivity, but this practice holds great potential for peace--both inner peace and social peace. Engaging in the literary and visual arts allows me to process observations in a way that leads to peaceful insights and healing.
I realize that at this point in my rudimentary writing career it is way too early for me to arrive at any conclusions about my writing practice; but it is precisely the fact that I am just starting out as a writer that makes it worthwhile to take the time and effort to present my motives in a clear and organized fashion. The reasons one starts out on any journey, profession, or endeavor are often the most enticing motivations; while one may mature and develop new or different motivations along the way, the original reasons are those which are anchored in the exhilaration, desperation, or nostalgia which keeps one going when the colloidal nature of life in a social system makes it difficult to wade through life's challenges each day.
In my published writings, I tend to explore questions rather than deliver main messages. I aim to take an approach that encourages readers to wonder and imagine, rather than judge and agree. I balance inquisitiveness with experimentation, exploring the personal and the political, ideas and craft, the physical world and the imagination.
In 2020, I created a visual map that represents the mental spaces that influence our thoughts and ideas; this map guides me toward exploration in my writing, as I explain in "Memorial Day":