Sunday Scribblings - Writing


Writing is the open line to my authentic self. Talking is open to misinterpretation. Talking leads me into statements that I cannot support. Talking loses my point and my focus. Writing keeps me true.
I am neither a good writer nor a bad writer. I am a writer. It is how I reflect on my experiences and how I remember how things were at the time. It is how I work through my feelings and discover how I am feeling. It is how I make an argument most convincingly, and it is also how I mend fences after an argument.
Through writing I learn and through writing I teach.
Through writing, I live.

Created for Sunday Scribblings - to read other responses, follow the link in the sidebar to the right.

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Sunday Scribblings #67 - Slippery

Let me start by saying read this one. It is so true and so beautifully written. I'll get back to mine a little later on...

Now I've got it.

The muse is slippery. Ideas float and flutter through my mind, sometimes as concepts, sometimes as completed pieces. I see a sky, a stone, a tree and I get a flash of inspiration. I flip through a magazine or book or walk around a gallery and I think "oooh, I could do something like that, only I would try it this way."



I sit down to create something. I would happily create anything really. But nothing speaks to me. My ideas feel pedestrian. My materials seem 'not very me'. Anything I manage seems dull and derivative. My hands refuse to speak for my mind. Frustration reigns and life gets harder without a chance for expression.



The crayons fly over the paper, knowing when to stop and shade and smudge. The lines flow out from my pen like ribbons of steam. Colours push themselves forward to speak their part and words scatter across the page. Time ceases its existence and art creates itself. The muse is slippery.

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