A famous writer was asked why he wrote and his answer was that he wished to 'share' his thoughts with others. He then corrected himself and said it was because he wished to be 'loved'. Is this not the desire of every human being? In this day and age when the art of conversation seems to be dead, one is inclined to bury thoughts rather than share them? It is seldom that one has the opportunity to verbally share words and ideas with others. Television seems to have killed real conversation. Nobody talks any more. Everyone is rushing around trying to keep up with life as they see it. Work, school runs, fast food or cooking, kid’s homework, house work and then feet up and television. Television - the great relaxer or just a means to fall asleep!
It is sad because conversational discussion is so much more stimulating. Flippancy seems to be the rule of the day. To me it is like hiding reality behind a mask of frivolous comments. Humour is great at most times and there is nothing like a good belly laugh to keep the adrenalin flowing, but when an interesting discussion is in full spate, an out of place flippant remark kills the debate.
Writing for me personally is a compulsion, not necessarily in order to communicate my thoughts and feelings to others but something that just flows through a pen or a keyboard. I do however want my words to be read and shared - otherwise there is no point in writing them. It is extremely gratifying to receive feed back on the written word for any writer even if it is just criticism – at least one knows someone took the time to read! Feedback is the only criterion one has to go by.
Writing for me, opens my mind and my memory. As I write, I remember things that I had forgotten and which the act of writing brings back to the forefront of my mind. With these facts now available, I can use my creativity to embellish the memories that my mind has opened up for me and make a story that is worth reading.
It is amazing how much of one’s past is clouded. Writing about life parts the clouds and one can look back in wonder at what happened to one as a child, a teenager, a young adult. Memories come flooding back, like a chain, one connects to another, opening up the past and these can then be put into words.
Writing for me opens the door to a life time of living and the many 'characters' that I have met along that path. There is so much material for stories, fictional or life writing – and so I write.
Friday, 16 November 2007
Tuesday, 13 November 2007
A Sunset
The sun slips down to meet the horizon,
And on its way it meets some smoky clouds…
This meeting becomes a vision of delight
As the sky and clouds take on a different hue
With colours pink, orange, gold, yellow, blue,
That flash and change turning ever bright
As the sky line glows with an ethereal light.
A sudden dimming turns our side of earth into night.
The sun has gone from this side of our globe,
To light another part of Earth, another road;
To amaze some other nature loving being
Who gazes in appreciation and sees what I am seeing?
Helen Renaux
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