Focal length

This is something R talked to me about. What is your creative DNA? How do you see the world?

Tharp writes about what good ways the focal length is seen… like in West Side’s Story’s choreography or Raymond Chandler’s details.

What is my focal point? It’s not big picture. I’m definitely not looking at the world as a whole. I guess it’s far more detailed, though not, I think, as detailed as Chandler.

Of course, in thinking about my face (see the last post) I was very detailed.

But I don’t think I really take in details usually. I think usually I’m farther off than that. It might be a middle focus, that takes part of the picture and concentrates on it, like R’s picture of the belly button ring.

When I was writing Dielli’s story, I had trouble describing the palace, but no trouble at all detailing the stairs. I know exactly what those look like. But then again, I know the house she grew up in and some of the stuff around it, but not the whole area. And I know the basic outline of the city, including where it is and what is on either side, but I don’t have a good picture of all the buildings in it.

What would that make my focal length?

It’s an interesting question, though I am not yet sure how useful it is, except to know that you have a certain style.

I don’t like chaos, I know that. But I don’t mind a little dirt. I don’t even see it, usually. Not until it’s big and “out there.”

The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp, read on the Kindle.