I’d love to take the train from Cais do Sodo and LIE on Cascais Beach in Lisbon letting the sunshine air-nibble my skin. Maybe pop to Bairro Alto a few hours later to do shots and throw shapes. But that’s not what this is about. Someone take me back to Portugal ! *sigh*(
I find the concept of DECEPTION interesting, I always have. Perhaps that is why films such as “The talented Mr Ripley’, ‘Closer’and ‘The Prestige” are amongst my favourites. Having a creative outlet within the Arts is great for exploring your militia of unreal thoughts. Its fascinating what peoples minds can come up with when they run rogue – exquisite stories, profound poetry all miles away from anything the creator has ever truly experienced. Its funny that a fictional account of an experience can resonate with us more than someone else’s true life story.Remember the James Frey scandal- The author whose book ‘a million little pieces’ was promoted by Oprah’s book club, only for she and the world to discover that he’d sold what was largely fiction as a non-fiction account of ‘his’ substance addiction and recovery process. It’s funny that whilst people were pissed off about being “conned’, his story did help some of the same people as far as providing awareness, encouragement etc.
Personally, whether art is based on a true story like Chris Ofili’s contemporary art piece -‘no woman no cry’ or its an ursula le guin science fiction novel, i enjoy and value it. I don’t even mind being deceived a little about it (hey its not like discovering an errant lover’s infidelity!). I like the mystery in Art. Its fabulous that something intrinsically bad like ‘lying’ becomes instrumentally good, as ‘being imaginative’ ergo creative
I tend to mix true and false occurrences and experiences in my prose and poetry. The truths make it easier to inject realism and the false for pulling through that escapist treasure that keeps you engrossed and up till 3am when you have a paper due/ work presentation/final exam/baby mama drama appointment/friend’s druggie intervention at 9am.
Someone I showed one of my poems who liked it, became uneasy when i admitted (wrong word. i’m not a bloody criminal) mentioned that whilst partly true, some of the ideas expressed were wholly fabricated.Then i felt guilty for a nanosecond before my senses returned and I promised myself NEVER to allow anyone stifle my audacity to lie in my literary art! *drops mic and takes a bow*