"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." ~Ernest Hemingway
I find myself sitting amidst a pile of words, wanting to string them together as if they were beads on a thread. Can I do that? Can I randomly choose one after another paying no attention to articles of speech or context? I believe it would sound something like the Jabberwocky or worse.
It is not my intent to create nonsense or indiscriminate writing. I have a focus; it's simply slow in coming.
I play in my pile of words as if they were freshly fallen leaves from a tree. I dig deep, I throw them in the air, I thrash about, I cough up the dust. When I close my eyes I still see them floating in front of me. Words, words, words, like Shakespeare exclaimed. Meaning nothing. Meaning everything. My lump of clay. Sitting expectantly. Waiting for me to do with them what I will.
5 comments:
I can vision you playing with all those words! Am confident that in just a matter of time you will string those words together with a beautiful or comical or serious or even provoking post!
Looking forward to it
Thanks for your vote of confidence Savira. I truly appreciate it!
Oh my dear...you and your words are so beautiful. Truly. I believe you will find your way out of the pile and onto the page.
You will tame those unruly words. They will become putty in your capable hands.
When the time is right, they write themselves. Patience.
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