#poetic prose
Interviewer: Those critics who prefer very sparse and simple prose have criticized the richness of your own “poetic prose.” Why have you chosen to employ this style?
Anaïs Nin: You know that was completely contradicted when Durrell’s “Quartet” came out and we realized that by that widely held attitude, writing had been made so poor, so one-dimensional and so shallow that it didn’t give any nourishment. They had considered writing simply a functional thing, a descriptive thing, and didn’t realize that when you use that approach you are building and describing something that’s dead. But that was the plain writing that became very highly valued and traditional in our culture. It almost killed the novel. My use of rich writing was an effort to bring all the senses with it–rhythm, color, and all the atmosphere around things. I really feel that the taboo on our senses made the drug culture; drugs became the only way to break down this flat, monotonous, one-dimensional approach.
Interviewer: In “The Novel of the Future” you protested against “the cult of direct description which has given our literature a false masculinity… some of these catatonic novels may be written by victims of Puritanism, of Calvinism; or of the English complex that all personal matters should be avoided as bad manners…”
Anaïs Nin: Yes. At one time there was so much talk about communicating by simplifying our language; any elaboration of language was considered unnecessary and a luxury. And I kept refuting that on the basis that we are all very complex beings and we function on so many levels that we need all the kinds of language that we can possibly develop. That was a terrible period of loneliness and alienation for everyone. They felt that language was irrelevant to our pattern of dynamic living.
Anaïs Nin, 1971, in “Conversations With Anaïs Nin,” free to read on Archive.org.
“so important to realize that some feelings you carry aren’t necessarily ones that belong to you, but feelings connected to past or younger versions of you that felt unseen, unheard or unloved. certain feelings don’t just appear from thin air, they stem from unresolved energy.”
— iambrillyant
“no longer rushing what deserves time to bloom. no longer forcing what requires patience to attract. no longer looking outside of myself to measure my growth or progress, just slowly unearthing the parts of me that i had hidden and telling them that they deserve to be celebrated.”
— iambrillyant
“nothing compares to the flowers that bloom from all the work you put into yourself.”
— iambrillyant
“good communication is the foundation of anything healthy in a connection, but i appreciate the connections that don’t take many words for something to be felt or understood. i appreciate the connections that hear me beyond my voice and comprehend me deeper than my language”
— iambrillyant
“no longer swimming in water that shallows my depth. no longer assuming responsibility of calming waves that i never started. no longer diving deep to reach anyone who’d rather see me drown than see me reach myself. no longer tending to what’s convenient, but only what’s for me.”
— iambrillyant
“you’ve been afraid, you’ve had your fears and anxieties, you’ve felt unheard and misunderstood, you’ve had doubt occupy your space as a frequent visitor, you’ve worried about what the future holds, but in every moment you’ve still shown up anyway—there is power in that.”
— iambrillyant
“it’s the ones who give me the space to be myself, that create more room for themselves in my life.”
— iambrillyant
“some connections fail because the expectations attached to them are unrealistic, and when those expectations aren’t met, we view the other person as the issue when it’s the way we view connections which is really the problem. seeking perfection will poison your perspective.”
— iambrillyant
“your moments of stagnancy have something to teach you. you’re not stuck, not moving, or not progressing. you are simply where you need to be until you absorb and learn everything that you need to learn about this current phase.”
— iambrillyant
“sometimes the destination does change. not because you aren’t worthy of attaining your goals or reaching certain targets, but only because the finish line looks different every time you outgrow parts of who you used to be.”
— iambrillyant
“some people have a habit of looking for you at addresses that your soul no longer resides at. it’s okay to accept that the space you are currently existing in looks very different to the one they last left with you. you don’t have to open new doors for old energy.”
— iambrillyant
“healing is such a lonely and intimate process. it requires you being your own friend on some days, being your biggest cheerleader in certain moments and spending quality time with your wounds— but it is all so necessary.”
— iambrillyant
“acceptance is more than just applauding the parts of yourself that you find beautiful and endearing, it’s about acknowledging the ugly parts that exist to you too. it’s about finding peace in who you are regardless of your flaws and the mistakes you’ve made.”
— iambrillyant
“sometimes, when you can’t articulate your feelings it is a sign that you are meant to absorb what you’re feeling and learn from it until you can find a language for your emotions. give yourself all the time you need, your intentions deserve softness.”
— iambrillyant
“sometimes, all you can do is love yourself a little more than you loved yourself yesterday, and that is more than enough.”
— iambrillyant
“the unknown is scary, but what is even more frightening is not knowing because you never tried.”
— iambrillyant
“accepting myself fully. even the undesirable parts and corners of myself i don’t like to visit. accepting the parts of myself still learning, the ones that play small out of trauma or conditioning. accepting myself, good and bad, high and low, unconditionally.”
— iambrillyant
“a lack of boundaries invites in a lack of respect. a lack of boundaries welcomes in a lack of honesty with yourself. a lack of boundaries accepts where they decide to view you instead where of you actually view yourself.”
— iambrillyant
“how many times have you failed to attract what you deserve because you were too busy trying to satisfy their wants, when you haven’t even met your own needs yet?”
— iambrillyant
“some peoples perceptions of you are so skewed that they will constantly misread your intent. their misunderstandings of you do not have to be your reality— they can only gaslight your spirit if you don’t know your truth.”
— iambrillyant
“i used to admire the ones who carried mountains of pain because it showed just how strong they are, now the ones i admire are the ones who are able to let go of that pain because this is where true power exists.”
— iambrillyant
“trust the timing that people enter your life, but also trust the timing in which people leave.”
— iambrillyant
as the earth beneath you was shorn apart under the weight of your lies, your treacheries, and Karma’s gaping maw rushed up to greet you I gave you what you needed: distance, and a deaf ear
you see, even after everything–the three-am-confessions, emotional extortion, and our daughter who I never got to hold (was she mine? was she even real?) I couldn’t bring myself to hate you; but more importantly, in the face of pain I couldn’t have known I was never able to love you
I admit, every “I need you” ever disclosed made it difficult in the beginning, but with time and focus on what mattered, the echoes grew quieter. I won’t try to speak on your behalf, your actions were loud enough
and now finally, long after your three-year-prognosis, you got everything you deserved just like I’d hoped, and you have all you wanted: wrapped in swaddling cloth and loving embrace
catharsis by proxy, May 23rd 2022
the best revenge isn’t moving on and pretending not to care. if you really want to disconcert people, stick your fingernails in and bring out your insides. leave them there on the table. no one wants to see you cry. that’s why you should do it.
He told me smoking was bad for me, I never thought he would turn out to be worse. He was the type of person that got stuck, not only in my head, but in my veins too. The type I wrote poetry about, but wouldn’t introduce to my parents. He lit a fire inside of me, and then left me to burn out. I didn’t need to kiss him to feel the sparks, every time his fingertips brushed across my skin, my heart would race like a Maserati. My skin erupted in goose bumps, and my stomach filled with butterflies. And every time his lips met mine, I felt like I was on ecstasy. He was the closest thing to love I ever felt, and now that he’s gone I don’t want to feel it again. When he kissed me for the last time, my heart felt this loneliness; I still haven’t recovered from it.
- an illicit affair
