Saturday, September 25, 2010

Being a Critic causes you to be critical...DUH!

In the midst of a research binge on architecture critics, from the journalistic to the academic, there has been a common thread I have been realizing within all: I am critical about being critical.

You see, sentences like that are what I am dismantling and over-analyzing, time and time again. What the fuck do they mean? Have I internalized my theoretical influences to the point I can no longer enjoy text and only read into subtexts? There we go again, what the fuck am I talking about?

Three questions in 2 minutes makes me think that I might as well not bother writing this, but in the ever changing landscape of my style, theoretical ideals, and concepts, I have found solace in self awareness. I am guessing here that I want a text that speaks to me in two ways: the conversational and off the cuff, as well ass the theoretical and hard to swallow. Is that too much to ask? (In that last question I even thought the cadence of the sentence was nice.)

You know there was a time when someone wanted me to think of myself as a Miami bro and not a critic. Although that was eons ago, I think of the weight of that polar opposition (seeminlgy polar and not very, to be honest). I like that I can bro-it-up with my friends who have no idea what the term 'context' means, but know very well what a situation and influence are. I like that there is a level of understanding inherent in all aspects of society and I like writing right around that area, but I have realized that I am not REALLY doing that.

Reading critics makes you realize that who they are writing for is as important as what they're writing about, which is of course overstated, but I forget that constantly. So that leads me to my point: since I am writing as a critic I have to be even more critical of myself as much as anything I read, digest, or see. I think that this is of course possible with a level of self awareness and a modesty about your writing, as well as a humbleness, i.e. things I struggle with all the fucking time.
(P.S. on the i.e., I just realized that I have been using i.e. instead of e.g. (i.e. I have been using for example instead of 'in other words'. BAM! There is your literary lesson for the day.)

So I again find myself at the end of my post and I am purposefully not doing some witty ending. So there you go. MUNCH on that motherfuckers.

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