Abstract

I live more in my head than my body. Consequently I write abstractly, and feel guilty about it, hearing echoes of Ezra Pound's "Go in fear of abstractions" as I write. All those writers preaching, be aware of the body, be concrete, versus me scribbling my ingrown thoughts, hunched over, ignoring my own bad posture.

Then recently I read this from K C Cole (from Sympathetic Vibrations, Reflection on Physics as a Way of Life): “Abstractions seem magical because they can exist independent of matter—and also because they can do things that matter itself cannot do.”

How much better I felt. How much less alone.

Oh, I know concrete writing has power. But abstractions are not without their own mojo, despite the bad press.