Fresh Eyes On The Writing Process

I’m in a phase of my PhD journey where I am writing, writing, writing. Until recently I was in a place where I was plotting out what I would eventually write, but now I’m actually writing. Real sentences that real eyes will read.

When I sit at my computer with my document open on the screen, my fingers poised at the keyboard, I sometimes feel paralyzed with doubt. It feels like everything has already been said by smart people who have read many more books than me.

Sustained writing is about wrestling with the subject matter and honing the craft, yes, but it is also about working through the fear. The fear of the blank page, the fear of being called out as an imposter, the fear of not having anything original to say, the fear of the words on the page not matching the ideas in your head.

Pair of eyes, Greek, 5th century B.C. or later, The Metropolitan Museum

Look at these strange and wonderful eyes. They currently live in a glass box at The Met in New York City. But they used to live in the eye sockets of a statue in Ancient Greece, making the figure appear impossibly real. They once brought a statue to life, and now they are eternally out of context in a quiet corner of a museum gallery.

I keep tripping myself up by thinking my research has to be as monumental as (to keep going with artwork in The Met) Sargent’s Madame X. Something splashy, iconic, crowd pleasing. But things feel easier when I remind myself that I’m actually building something on the scale of these ancient eyes in the glass box. I'm looking at one small thing and the different contexts into which it’s been inserted, and thinking about what it all means.

So yes, my work is about the eyes in the glass box, but it is also about my eyes. My eyes and their particular perspective. My eyes that draw me to this quiet corner to look, wonder, and (eventually) write.