whither Belle

I’ve been trying to write about this woman, Belle Mazur, for over ten years. But each time I begin to dip into the history of what I want to know, I do just that – dip only. I’ve resisted the full body dive into her world. All kinds of excuses. I can’t lay all the stuff out on the table. It’s too much to access. How can I ever find the information. I can’t make sense of the sequence. There’s too much missing. But the underlying truth is a resistance to really immersing myself in the project. I’ve never actually read her book. I’ve looked through the papers I have, but I’ve never spent the hours pouring over them that they require if I’m to commit them to a place in my brain where they will be able to drive other work on the project. I hate to admit this, especially in this semi-public spot. And I don’t do it with the hope that the embarrassment will force me to do different, or with any intention of changing my slovenly research ways. It’s just a simple admission, yet another example of my resistance to committing to the project. I have fantasy of clearing every surface in my office and remaking it in the shape of a Belle research center – you know, really doing it up right. But of course that never comes to pass and I’m so preoccupied by the moronic demands of my day job that I never take such an idea seriously. I do have a colleague who regularly writes books of 80K words, but I don’t want to mirror his self absorption. The stuff in my office seems to close in on me as I add, single sheet by single sheet, thin pieces of paper to the piles of things that must be attended to. Yes, I’m filled to the brim with excuses. Maybe this form, the blog, can help me undermine my undermining tendencies. By giving me a completely new form, not forum, in which suggest her life maybe I can find a new entry into what has felt completely impenetrable. Not fiction, as David suggests, but the slow blog construction that just lets me, actually demands, tiny sections of little – or even no – connection to one another. Maybe.