writing is an art, an expression of who you are and what you see; it is a gift and a privilege, for with it you can open doors, sow seeds, weave worlds and break hearts.. writing is also a discipline and for those of us writers who sometimes are temporarily disfunctioning because our thoughts won't take form on paper, this can be immensely frustrating. write anyway. read widely. ask people questions. listen to the answers. find out what's happening in the world around you. give to a need. sit, and feel for all it is, the unfunctioning, as a paralysed runner might feel desperately for his once strong legs. and then write it anyway. don't try to craft it. write for the record of happenings, for the documentation of ideas, write for the interest in the person, write because the story should be told, and who knows who might one day chance upon it. and soon enough the trickle will become a flow and the spark of one idea rubbing against another will connect you back with the outpouring of your spirit in black and white. thoughts from a temporarily-disfunctioned writer
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writing is an art, an expression of who you are and what you see; it is a gift and a privilege, for with it you can open doors, sow seeds, weave worlds and break hearts.. writing is also a discipline and for those of us writers who sometimes are temporarily disfunctioning because our thoughts won't take form on paper, this can be immensely frustrating. write anyway. read widely. ask people questions. listen to the answers. find out what's happening in the world around you. give to a need. sit, and feel for all it is, the unfunctioning, as a paralysed runner might feel desperately for his once strong legs. and then write it anyway. don't try to craft it. write for the record of happenings, for the documentation of ideas, write for the interest in the person, write because the story should be told, and who knows who might one day chance upon it. and soon enough the trickle will become a flow and the spark of one idea rubbing against another will connect you back with the outpouring of your spirit in black and white.
thoughts from a temporarily-disfunctioned writer
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