Sunday, October 2, 2011

All in The Name of Love and Creativity

The other day I had to do research on bullwhips and what it was like to be whipped. I came across a Utube video where a young guy was tied to a tree, and his friend was whipping him countless times. To be honest, it hurt my heart watching it. However, the guy didn’t cry out or display any painful emotions, which made it tolerable to watch. Afterwards, they showed what his back looked like, and counted more than twenty lashing marks.

I was surprised when I came across the video because why would anybody want to inflict pain onto themselves? When I think about that, the thought of cage fighting follows. Why would somebody want to beat the crap out of another person just for the fun of it?

I don’t understand it.

A good friend of mine from junior high had told me a year ago that he does cage fights (he lives in Arizona). When I asked him why, he told me to prove to himself he can. I think it’s an ego thing really. Nevertheless, though, it still hurts my heart to even think about it. I try not to judge why people do things, but to hurt somebody for the sake of hurting them, for ego reasons, for status, popularity, approval, or whatever, bothers me. I feel the same way about boxing. I know a lot of people like it and think it’s cool, but personally, I think it’s barbaric. I mean, if people want to do it, that’s their choice. So be it. It’s their life. It’s not like they’re doing something illegal. They’re only hurting themselves, and the other willing party in the ring. Their actions have no bearings on my life whatsoever. Just because it hurts my heart doesn’t give me the right to point a harsh finger at them and call them animals. They’re probably nice guys. I don’t know, but I’m not going to watch it, or be a part of their world because that’s not the type of world I want to experience. My junior high friend is a very nice guy. However, if I was still in Arizona, I certainly wouldn’t be going to one of his cage fighting events.

When I had finished watching the Utube video, I continued the research because the guy never mentioned how it felt like to be whipped. For the chapter I was writing, I had to know what it actually felt like so I could put as much realism into it as possible. I came across an article about a guy who was publicly flogged because he was drinking in public. The guy explained exactly how it had felt like, and to his credit, he gritted his teeth and didn’t give the Iranians the satisfaction of screaming out. To have the willpower and the presence of mind to exercise such self control is admirable. At least, in my book it is.

After I read his experience, I was able to write my chapter. I had never written a chapter like that before and really had to stretch myself. But that’s good because the cool thing about being a writer is, you ALWAYS continue to grow. It’s not like you hit a certain level, and that’s it. Even Stephen King had said he still has a lot to learn. So yeah, writing that chapter was a new experience for me. But I enjoyed writing it and how it turned out. I wasn’t sure if my critique partner would like it, but she actually loved it. She told me it was a great chapter. So doing my research on bullwhips and flogging not only taught me something new, it also helped me add more zest to my story. And even though I could have gone my whole life without knowing what it was like to be brutally whipped, I now have an idea and understanding about it, thanks to the chapter I had to write. And whether I like it or not, that’s just one more piece of knowledge I can slip into my repository.

Ah, such tragedy and brutality I must encompass and allow into the shelter part of my mind so I can add brilliant colors to the pages of my story–all in the name of my love for creativity and my story.

I’m not trying to be a martyr or a drama queen. No. Really I’m not. :)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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