:-) What a great little piece! I love the description written of floating cities of black and gold fuzz. Your work is so delightfully varied, a smorgasbord of literary treats. To stand before your page is akin to standing before a night sky filled with sparkling stars. Mesmerizing, awe-inspiring. Wows flood and spill and my mind spirals off into bright lights and leather binding, to black on white, to the world knowing what we fortunate few have known for years.
Ms Storm, each day I wake up, my mind is a blank canvas, with no vessel of a poem on the horizon. I stand in the crow's nest, and still I spy nothing, when, all of a sudden, as if one moment it was not there and the next it is, a poem appears. The subject or style a mystery to me as it appears on the page. I really don't even know how they will end until they end. :-)
I find that both fascinating and enchanting, and it reveals just how definitively natural your talent is. On the one hand, I once heard somewhere that a true writer is defined by whether or not it is the first thing, he or she thinks about when they wake, in other words how passionate, how consuming the desire to write is. Secondly, the vocation has always been a source of great interest and so I have in my time read several accounts from established writers about the creative process and many or most speak of it in precisely the same way as you have here, of never knowing when or where or what will come next, but of simply riding a wave of inspiration, whatever that source, so often different, may be. And last but not least, your work speaks for itself. If ever there were a natural, supremely talented writer - you have a special gift for writing, Poppet, as real as the flesh and blood that you reside within. And all we can do is enjoy and be thankful that we have been granted the gift of opportunity to read.
Oh my, how do I respond to that? As strange as it might sound, I don't really feel like I write anything as much as watch the words slip from mind and heart to fingers and screen. I'm as amazed by the process as a newborn at the world. :-)
8 comments:
Hope you didn't get stung !
Only in the pocketbook Annie. :-)
:-) What a great little piece!
I love the description written of floating cities of black and gold fuzz.
Your work is so delightfully varied, a smorgasbord of literary treats. To stand before your page is akin to standing before a night sky filled with sparkling stars. Mesmerizing, awe-inspiring. Wows flood and spill and my mind spirals off into bright lights and leather binding, to black on white, to the world knowing what we fortunate few have known for years.
Ms Storm, each day I wake up, my mind is a blank canvas, with no vessel of a poem on the horizon. I stand in the crow's nest, and still I spy nothing, when, all of a sudden, as if one moment it was not there and the next it is, a poem appears. The subject or style a mystery to me as it appears on the page. I really don't even know how they will end until they end. :-)
I find that both fascinating and enchanting, and it reveals just how definitively natural your talent is. On the one hand, I once heard somewhere that a true writer is defined by whether or not it is the first thing, he or she thinks about when they wake, in other words how passionate, how consuming the desire to write is. Secondly, the vocation has always been a source of great interest and so I have in my time read several accounts from established writers about the creative process and many or most speak of it in precisely the same way as you have here, of never knowing when or where or what will come next, but of simply riding a wave of inspiration, whatever that source, so often different, may be. And last but not least, your work speaks for itself. If ever there were a natural, supremely talented writer - you have a special gift for writing, Poppet, as real as the flesh and blood that you reside within. And all we can do is enjoy and be thankful that we have been granted the gift of opportunity to read.
Oh my, how do I respond to that? As strange as it might sound, I don't really feel like I write anything as much as watch the words slip from mind and heart to fingers and screen. I'm as amazed by the process as a newborn at the world. :-)
it has been like that for ages...razing and rebuilding...
Mona, I think it's gonna be that way for a long, long time.
Post a Comment