I have been wrestling with the question of “writing” as of late… some people tell me “Ed,… you’re a writer, i’m always going to tell you that.”. Now for me, that’s news! As I never viewed myself as a writer. Quite frankly I’ve never viewed myself as anything specifically. I was a guy, a man-child that was good with his hands, but a “writer” no… but a graffiti writer, sure!
I guess I am increasingly finding myself at certain crossroads. I like to write, I love to write, but what I really like to do is simply document my thoughts in order to share them. I approach it in the same fashion as drawing, I look at a blank piece of paper and I mark it all up. Those markings, words, and phrases can end up becoming a work of art, or end up becoming an essay on something. Interesting!… an artist who writes, or a writer who creates art? You got me on that one.
Also I find myself not wanting to write, which is a bit odd. I like to draw, but find myself, without the will. Maybe it’s just a season. There has to be a bit of irony in the fact that I am writing about not wanting to write. There has to be a lesson in that right there. I find writing to be a bit therapeutic… healing if you will. It’s me spilling my guts not knowing who is listening.
But I do know that words can bring life, or better yet they can act as if they are alive. They can leap off a page and stay lodged in your mind for years, if not forever. But this too shall pass, this season of “no words”. A Season of No Words, wow… I think I may be able to work with that. Sounds like the title of a painting, so do you see how that works? How the wordplay in one can lead to creating in the other?
Maybe I simply need to take a break and go on vacation, a real vacation, to clear my mind, brain, and spirit, of all the residue that has settled in there. Lift up those carpets and clean out the dust! Set a vacuum cleaner upon the space between my ears and press “ON”.
Sitting on a beach watching the waves roll in, sounds like a good vacuum cleaner.