Top: Sometimes it's not the elevation, you just can't get any higher. View of Bath from Solsbury Hill + + + And with them eke, O Goddess heavenly bright, Mirrour of Grace and Majesty Divine, Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose Light Like Phoebus' Lamp throughout the World doth shine, Shed … [Read more...] about Postcard #2: The classicist versus the romantic …. the artist says farewell to his muse with help from Blake, Yeats, Thoreau and Lillian Gish
These are basically writing exercises. Many of us feel like we have a book inside us. We're taught to write what we know. But writing takes skill, just like any other art or craft. You have to work at it.
Once I loved a woman, and for years our basic form of communication was writing. She taught me how to express love, feelings and emotion. I could do that with her, because I knew she'd read what I wrote, and knew I had to be honest. She'd see through it if I wasn't.
Losing her meant I lost that guardian of the truth. But I've found if I put it out here, even if nobody reads it, I'm still forced to mean what it is I write. I'm forced to be honest, even if much of this is fiction.
And in the process I get to take myself apart and examine my feelings. I get to exorcise my demons. Much of this isn't pretty, but it's honest. I can't imagine why anyone would want to read any of this, but here it is.
At least it keeps me honest.