Welcome to the blog of Kevan Manwaring – author, creativity coach and bard on a bike!
…And so I join the millions (billions?) in the blogosphere with my contribution to the modern phenomenon of the virtual confessional.
Why would you like to know about my life? I can only assume you have the same kind of cyber-voyeurism as I do. There’s something fascinating about peeking into other people’s lives – and, as a writer, this is very much my territory. I believe, as a novelist, if you are not interested in people, you’ll have nothing interesting to say about them.
But what is the point of a blog? I suppose it is something to do with bearing witness to the miracle of being alive, saying ‘Hey, Universe, I’m alive!’ It is virtual message in a bottle we send out into the cyber-void with a click of the mouse, hoping it will wash up on someone’s shore. At our computers we are all Robinson Crusoes. We are surrounded by a vast archipelago of other islands, each with its resident Robinson, each hoping to find traces of human life, footprints in the sand. A Man or Woman Friday. Kindred spirits. Fellow souls on the voyage of life.
But perhaps it simply appeals to the narcissist in us. We gaze at our ‘reflection’ on the monitor screen like Narcissus in the pool. Blogging could be accused of being a kind of vanity press. It is, indeed, a collective act of vanity. A Warholian hall of mirrors – everyone famous for their fifteen minutes online. Everyone is looking, trying to catch their reflected image, but no one is watching. And yet there’s too many moving, rawfully honest, blogs out there to be swept away by such a criticism. It provides a window into every corner of the world, even the ones we don’t want to look through, or others don’t wish us to. It celebrates being human. Celebrates the fact we are all part of this ongoing project called the Human Race. A work-in-progress. Life the result of many drafts, each overlapping the previous, a palimpset of memories, mistakes, detours and roads less travelled.
A blog enables us to live a ‘transparent life’ – in houses of glass. A million lives on the other side of the monitor screen. Yet this is an illusion. We disclose what we choose. Create the virtual masks for this masquerade. How do we wish others to see us. How shall we invent ourselves? And yet it can be a chance to be painfully truthful. This is warts and all stuff, if we want it to be. But I am not interested in other people’s dirty linen, even less my own. If I can share something of this marvellous thing called being alive, then I shall be content.
And the act of writing, I believe, can help us appreciate being alive even more.
Writing enables one to live life twice. To draw the pith out of life, chew on its meaning, assimilate its lessons. Not just constantly experience without any moment of pause to reflect, to take stock. A blog perhaps encourages us to ‘stand and stare’ for a minute or two. To get off the wheel for a moment. Resist the relentless forward momentum of consensus reality. When in fact, humans are time machines – we inhabit the past, the present, the future – often simultaneously. Contradictions of ourselves. Never just one thing. Multi-faceted, marvellous and alive.
in the love of truth,
PS if you wish to know more about what I do then check out my main site: