I need to breathe. This as I am, writing self, tired and restless. I don't always want to express on paper or this, this electronic medium that is now-you-see-it-now-you don't in truth. Delete of a button. Systems crash. No back-up - all gone.
I don't always want to express. I like to think. I like to write. In my head. It comes out so eloquently, long prose, deeply intelligent - beginning, middle and end. Comprehensible and meaningful. How do I remove the distaste of presenting these thoughts out there, out there, out of my control - to be misinterpreted, misunderstood, misused, misappropriated. I miss the point.
I am myself, integrated within the whole - the writing self today. Yet, I remain silent. Silence is beautifully golden.
Exercise: Journey Writer: Describe your writing self. How do you see the part of you who is writing today? [a variation from Life's Companion by Christina Baldwin pg. 9]
Comments