Peace meal

desert of thought

Dawn on the desert of a moonlighting writer’s foggy thoughts.

God, I’m back again, wondering…was I adopted?

Your sister needs sunshine.  You need a cave.  Weird happens.  That’s not what you want to know.

Why can’t I write artistry into my words like good writers?

It takes so little to make you doubt your abilities.  Everyone has their writing style.  You have yours.

I think I have a story complete.  People ask, “Is this the rough draft?”  Why does my writing style have to be Early American Rough Draft?

You’re looking at the picture in your mind, the movie flowing by. You’re not used to seeing innuendo.  You make a picture from the colors, sounds and sights you pick up in pieces.  Your challenge is to learn how to imagine what it looks like to people who can see the whole picture.

There are people who have to overcome a whole lot more to achieve what they want in life.

Every person has their challenge.  To some people, walking out of their house is as challenging as the athlete trying to build muscle, speed and confidence to win an Olympic gold medal.  No one understands the challenges of another, nor can we compare  our challenges.

Here’s what I see.  When I’m reading a book using a text reader or digital player, I zone out when there are long descriptions.  But I just read a short vignette from a talented author and poet that made my senses stand at attention.  What is the difference between her fine work and other people’s descriptions?

She painted a picture with emotion.  She didn’t construct the surroundings like a bricklayer putting together a building.  She was the sales person who found the emotion inside you and you built your perfect house in your mind. 

Are you saying that instead of trying to describe the scene in colors and physical attributes, I need to find out what plays people’s emotions like a well-tuned violin?

Even a well-tuned violin can turn your stomach if the musician doesn’t know how to play the instrument.

There are some things a lifetime of practice can’t change.

You want solace and comfort.  I’m going to give you some advice instead.  Stop reaching for other people’s stars and start appreciating the twinkles in your own sky.

But we all live under the same stars.

Some people live under them in the desert.  Others live under them in hot, humid tropical climates.  Keep looking at your stars over the lushness of leaves that still haven’t fallen in November and don’t try to sell your version of starlit skies to someone who loves the surreal snow in a frozen November, echoes of stars calling out to them from the edges of the moonlight.

Sorry.  I just don’t get it.  Perhaps if I had more than 4 hours sleep tonight, things would make a lot more sense.

How do you feel when you’re typing in the dark?

Rested, at peace…my eyes are moist and they feel no pain.  It’s like I’m floating in perfection. 

Few people are going to understand that, but you do.    Let that be enough for now.