Pardon the use of I and me, waxing rather sentimental these days-
I’m not one of those fortunate people who began penning prose long ago. Words floated around my little world, surfacing when needed most. I used words as I was used–to catalogue a hurt on a silent diary page. Along the way something changed on my planetary ink spec. Not sure exactly what. Or exactly when. Words began bubbling up the back of my throat, beyond my physical ability to remove them. Maybe letters were always there waiting for me to grow and meet them head on.
Today, I write in too many directions. I answer whatever settles in the back of my throat. When the words don’t make sense to me, I let them exit and fall anyway. Heavy ones hit hard. Sometimes I’m able to build better looking piles, like an over-involved Scrabble board when everyone is cheating. If I’m lucky, a rare paper maché tree blossoms. Seeds might be sown or roots might unearth and rot away.
Some spin angst in their writing bubbles with or without realizing it. I’ve never needed excessive force to let go. My brain takes me all sorts of places. It always has. Crazy–yes, a little bit–I’ve been told more often than I care to count. I’m quite the chameleon now. I suppose it’s why I’ve owned several iguanas throughout my life. I wouldn’t own chameleons for fear I’d lose them against paisley curtains or checkered floors. Writing can be this way. Putting painted words out there and occasionally losing them.
The more I go at this writing, the more questions amass. Too many queries mounting on my traveling donkey. Should I get my challenge-load astride a mule, I’ll be but one steed step away from getting a few things figured out as I scale that ominous writing mountain. What has come to bother me most about writing, is not so much the creative part. It is how my words sometimes have the ability to hurt when they were always my healers. It amazes me, how I so often manage to be the kid locked outside of my own diary.
on the way to nostalgic-heard this song today in the car-I believe I sang this one million times when I was 13-thank you