"Borrowing Robes" disrobed

Remember in the first act of Macbeth, when Ross greets Macbeth as the Thane of Cawdor? "Why do you dress me in borrowed robes?" Macbeth asks, not understanding at that point that he has, in effect, been promoted.

It's a moment that's always resonated with me, not just because it's a beautiful, sensual turn of phrase, but because of the poignancy of that moment of confusion and insecurity. To me it seems to suggest that in some way Macbeth feels like an imposter, long before he murders to become king. Something in me relates to that sense of being an imposter. I like it as well because just the term "borrowed robes" suggests, though perhaps not in this context, compassion, a la "if you were in his shoes." Writing is, to me, part and parcel to compassion. (Though apparently not compassion for LaToya Jackson or Sarah Palin.) I like the idea that you can, over the course of your life, borrow many, many robes.

Hence the title of my blog: In it, I want to borrow the robes of better, more disciplined writers; writing is, to me, part and parcel to compassion; and to me, "borrowing robes" is a metaphor for stealthy exploration of what one can become.