Tag: Writer

Dangling Man.

mtaggartwriter8 Comments

I was leafing through Goethe’s Poetry and Life and I came upon this phrase: “This loathing of life has both physical and moral causes…” I was sufficiently stirred by this to read on. “All comfort in life is based upon a regular occurrence of external phenomena. The changes of the day and night, of the seasons, of flowers and fruits, and all other recurring pleasures that come to us. that we may and should enjoy them- these are the mainsprings of our earthly life. The more open we are to these enjoyments, the happier we are; but if these changing phenomena unfold themselves and we take no interest in them, if we are insensible to such fair solicitations, then comes on the sorest evil, the heaviest disease- we regard life as a loathsome burden.”
-Saul Bellow’s, Dangling Man.

I find this to be soul searching literature. This is the philosophy by which I live my life. Hence, my love of a falling leaf. Although that alone doesn’t summarize the depths of that simple thought/phrase. That ‘one’ leaf changed my life. I can only hope we all find a leaf of such magnitude. The proof of all things.

Saul Bellow, along with using a bit of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s poetry, masterfully lays out a path for any individual to break down happiness and how to apply it, if so inclined. It’s not the things, certainly NOT the things, we buy and stuff into our already full garages to show to our ‘friends’ just how far we’ve made it; at a very young age I realized just how fake that was while watching adults parade their facades.

As an adult I’ve found that writing is not only my outlet, but a space for my soul to become tangible. Whether my writing is any good or not, well that’s not for me to decide, but I will write. And I will read literature that touches my heart and forces me to look from the page and dive into my thoughts while staring at a blank wall and processing what I’ve just learned.

I wish you all the best,

Matt

I’m thankful for the support so many of you have so unselfishly given me.

-M. Taggart’s Odd Walking Thoughts – I’m somewhere in between.

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Held back massively in 2020. Be prepared. I plan to post as often as I feel on this blog in 2021. However, and whenever I like. I posted 120 less times in 2020 than in 2019. This blog is the reason I’ve been published. This blog was, and is, my outlet. This blog helps carry my soul on stairs most wouldn’t care to walk on. Had a baseball bat swung at my head through my car window, glass everywhere, spit it out onto the pavement; watched the largest moon I’ve ever seen near a wide and deep river, where years before, Hell was shown to me, in front of accidental viewers: how can anyone steep in such lowness and enjoy their lust. Maybe a walk down memory lane will help clear the view. Maybe I’ll drive to the very spot, drag a few with me, and see what’s to see. The moon walks on land when we let it. Saw a dark sky asking for a view the other night.

-M. Taggart

May it be

mtaggartwriter25 Comments

My Dad told us we’d be different. That we’re Scottish and that we’d be barrel chested. I didn’t know what that meant. He told us that we’d be smart and not always understood. He told us lots of things that were hard to believe. He positioned us with confidence. His own creativity was taken for granted and I believe he wanted my brother and I to not let anyone take from us what might be ours in the space of creativity. I’d like to believe that we can all celebrate our differences including our talents. I’d like to believe it’s possible. I’m proud of you, Dad. You had the mind to be yourself. I’ll continue to do the same.

***
That is the exact post I placed on my personal FB page as a partial goodbye to my father. I share it here because I feel a sense of respect and friendship with many of you whom I’ve connected with over the last number of years. I know some of you care, or for that, thank you. And while for a time, I didn’t see my father as a child, and when I did it was once a week on Sunday, he still made an impact on my life. I loved him and still do. May it be that I see him often in his perfect rest. Love you, Dad.

It was my father who helped to give permission to believe in writing.

I prefer being transparent. I want people to know what’s going on.

Matt