Creativity/Aristotle/motive/writing

I haven't written for a while, and that's given me the space to turn my gaze to look at my blog from a new POV and notice how strange it is that we should think of creation as "backwards" and daily life as "forewards" by contrast. Weird. Seems to me that this is analogous to the mistake kids often make when they try to understand vision--they see vision as something coming out of them, out of their bodies and consciousness, and it's very hard for them understand that in fact vision goes in the other direction, from the surfaces of the world first, and into their eye as an accident. Our consciousness, then, an accidental catch by a one millimeter circle of black.

I've been listening to Aristotle and have never locked in to anything so wonderful while driving. It may seem a stretch, but to me, Aristotle is talking about the same thing I've been trying to understand, the necessity of practicing and inquiring into the human imperative to create. His logic is not as recondite as I always feared. He argues that we understand things from good examples, and a good example is something that is well suited to its functions and purposes. Hammers make good nail-drivers, for instance. The focus on form and design allows him to ask what tools, animals and even humans so particularly well. For humans, that especiallyy characteristic attribute is that they reason. This reasoning we do is not necessarily philosophical, but could be; it includes all types of decision-making in all trades. In other words, it involves making.

The end of human activitity, then, becomes enhancing and shaping this rational ability, this ability to choose what to make and how to make it. Birds don't exactly do that with their nests, or dogs with their howl (my examples, not Aristotle's). But we do. When we put in a car stereo, build a house, write a book--all these are forms of making that reveal what is uniquely human about us.

My interest is in the uniquely human activity of writing. Not only are there a huge number of specific choices to be made--letters, words, order of phrases, tone, topic, revision--which is fascinating (and a joy to participate in), but there is also the implicated sphere of how one creates the conditions for this writing to happen (teaching). But the real issue is the most nebulous: what sponsors writing? What makes it necessary? What sorts of effects can it have on others and the self? Who exactly is writing? Is writing always good (maybe we should not write as much as we do)?

These seem to be questions of motive and purpose, and as such they are and are not rational activities. So I'm not sure where to go with this...

DF