Writing is a cathartic experience for me. I'm not very good at it, but I don't do it for other people. You know how people say they've found their callings? I feel that way now. I don't feel I'm destined to be a writer, but I do feel destined to write. For myself, and forever. I used to go a very long time without writing, but now I've taken it up again, and I'm doing it so much it's twelve-step-program-worthy. I can't go a day without adding some pages to my stories or my scripts or poems.
I used to keep a journal, which I wrote in habitually for about a year. Then my entries changed from fact to fiction. But it wasn't just any fiction, it was my own personal fiction. My personal fiction was based on me, my life, real events and some other real people. That was my transition: my journal changed from a diary to a manuscript.
Lately, I've been writing three stories and one script. I like all of them, but there's so much of me in them, I'm not sure if I'd be able to share them. I'll be like Ray Johnson; none of my stories, as his paintings, will be available or worth anything until I'm dead. Hah. That's true for many artists, though.
It's an interesting feeling, thinking things you make will last longer than you. The foresight is personal even though I know I won't be alive in that portion of the future, between my death and the extinction of my creations.
3.23.2009
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