Revisiting a neglected friend...

It has been many a sunrise since I last typed in this little ol' blog of mine, but that all-important need to express myself in the written word never truly came up in these past few months. And isn't that why most people write in the first place? There's usually a need, festering inside one's bodily cage of epidermis and striations, striving for some opening to escape (Isn't that how most good art gets made?). However, for me, that need was just not there... until today.

For the last... few months, really... I have been devoting a larger percentage of my time to the reading of non-fiction, criticism specifically. All of this reading has made me realize more and more that the writing of criticism is what I truly want to do, perhaps even what I was born to do. I do not mean to imply that I am good at writing criticism, or even good at criticism itself. However, by trying to live the life that I was blessed with as actively and openly as possible, I basically realized that what I truly am, that the best way to describe and most accurately characterize my infinitely variable person would be that of "a fan of life". Cliched, yes, but so what? I have realized that it is true, and I currently find that more important.

However, I will make it known that my love is not an unprejudiced love, for some things in life requires the responsible individual to make judgment upon. Indeed, I would say that some aspects of life are not worth loving at all. Bad art, for one, is quite annoying. Heartless individuals are also another aspect of life that most people have to deal with, but could most definitely do with less of. And what is the critic's job? Specifically that. To pass judgment. Although, let's be clear, it is not judgment of the kind that is meted and doled out arbitrarily; on the other hand, it should be the complete opposite: the opinions and thoughts of a critical, well-meaning mind.

So yes, I realized at some random point (possibly when I began to realize the public power of the critic through the reading and watching of Christopher Hitchens) that I needed to be, and establish, myself as an important public intellectual. However, that is not why I am writing in my blog again. Rather, this quarter (alas, my final one) at UCSD, I am taking a non-fiction writing course with one relatively amazing professor, a lady by the name of Halle Shilling who possesses that rare but infinitely important quality as a teacher: she seems to genuinely care for the well-being of her students (or at least their writing). Honestly inspired by her and the work she has had us read so far (mind you, it has only been two lectures), I've decided that I need to improve the quality of my writing. And what better way to improve than by reading more and writing more? Thus, I have decided to, in a sense, revive my blog from the graveyard of used up, burnt out blogs, and give it some more active attention and loving from now on. Let's see how I do....