A Few Petals On Why I Love Writing
Writing is the tongue of the mind, said Miguel de Cervantes.
To me, writing is the heart expressing itself.
Writing is the feeling of stepping out of confinement.
Indeed, to me, writing is spreading the wings of imagination and allowing for my thoughts to wander.
Writing is the dance of the pen and paper blending out words to leave their mark in the universe.
Sometimes my mind puzzles and I can’t write, such as last month. I had a writer’s block.
I tried to escape it alongside Mr Scofield. I watched him prison break. Bit by bit, rivers of ideas flooded open the gates of the blockage, and the muse of inspiration freed itself from confinement.
I don’t like it when I can’t express myself. It happens, now and then.
Yet most of the time I lose myself in the labyrinth of my mind playing with the puzzles it displays. And I sit and write as much as I can hold of. At times, ideas flow so rapidly that I have to twirl and whirl, lift my arms, do most of the flamenco movements I know to catch hold of them. Some of the ideas flee and return. Other ideas come back to me, more definite and more articulate. Vivid!
Other ideas fly in the infinite of the sky never to return. Just like Love.
A writer is a world trapped in one person, thought Victor Hugo.
And I think to myself that a writer is a director rendering alive scenes of life.
Topics we’d refrain from talking in public flourish in books. don't they? Writers develop on war, on drama, on the eternal question: to love or not to love? So complex a topic. Love… is an ocean and its waves, and reverberations last for centuries of eternity. Should ink go dry, there will still be stories to tell.
That’s why writers are needed, to my belief.
I love writing and I write almost, every day.
I am happy when I write. It looks like the beginning of a longtime friendship.
And I must and have to write every day to enhance my writing. I have a story, at least one story to tell. What about you - what stories do you keep for yourself, away from the tumult?
This is why I have created this oasis of roses. To have the rose remind me, and encourage me, and urge me to write. I have stumbled into so many beautiful stories. And people.
I have met and connected with a few writers, mostly men, of late. Painters of words...
Ladies, why is it that men write more than we do? Or is it only my perception? That’s food for thought.
By the way, the life of the French novelist Collette interpreted by Keira Knightley is my next movie to watch. I am looking forward to it. Isn’t Keira adorable? Her acting, her diction, all of her? A-d-o-r-a-b-l-e!
To speak of writing would take posts, and posts, and posts.
Maybe mostly because "In the human, there's an endless raw of people”, as our National Romanian Poet Mihai Eminescu says it best.
I must admit: I have always been jealous of his genius.