Inspiration

Things have crossed my mind attempting to penetrate my thoughts. I tried to reconnect with them, but I became busy and too important.

In taking time and listening to what others say and don't say, do and fail to do, I try to find the spaces inbetween and look for solace and peace.

Intertwining the mind with space and life, I cling to what astonishes me. The things that drive my day to day operations have become distinct and filled with a desire to record everything. A desire to communicate everything to this world and give meaning to the things that are incapable to be explained.

Quietly I bring write to life and recast the characters into a rerun that I hope to use as a acknowledgment of reality.

I type.

Writing is more than just a moment, it is a choice. It is a time to reflect on life and publish it to the masses. A choice to give life to what others believe is myth. A choice to write the right words in the right space for the right time in the right mind - set.

I learn...

Impressing me and others, I read the work of those who have come before me and stare in awe at the pages. Learning from forms of writing to places of reference, I have begun to see the skill it takes and the skill that lacks that makes a poet, that makes an artist, that makes one - make prose.

The prose that begins and ends with pause. That is intertwined and unable to be disconnected with feeling, they type that brings solace to grief, and increase in love. The kind that slices silence and brings awareness. The seal of wax stamped on a scarlet letter "A" to be exact. The way that brings the "sham" to "wow", absorbing more than you think it can, and releasing more than you think it will...

...wow.
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