Express

I was thinking the other day how much harder it is for me to speak than to write. I don't know why that is, but it just is. Even as a child, I preferred to write notes to people instead of telling them what was on my mind.

Piano was a great tool for me in my teens. I babysat in exchange for free lessons and learned The Maple Leaf Rag in a few weeks, with Malaguena coming after that and a piece by Katchachurian (can't remember which one!). But Beethoven was my favorite and I'd rush home from school just to get to that piano and play a sonata. Beethoven had a certain emotion in his music that I understood; it reached in and helped ease some of my fear and teen-age desperation. Many times Beethoven spoke for me when I had no ability to form words. Then came Lennon.

Art taught me that I could express myself in a completely unusual way and still say something without loss. If someone hated it, if I made a mistake, it didn't matter. Mistakes were good. There were no lines or notes to worry about, just execution, and that was completely subjective.

Writing leans on the technical side and can become frustrating at times. You'll never be the best writer, you'll never be the most creative, themes are never original, everything's been done before. But I love it. Words are beautiful and creating a world is an incredibly satisfying thing. I love where writing takes me. The characters, though formed from my own brain, become real and start to infuse my personality so that, at times, I must stop and remember who I am. A good thing for me as I can be too harsh on myself sometimes. It's good to escape.

Speaking of characters (and I'm completely sidetracking my own post) have you ever looked up your characters on Facebook? I have and it's surreal!!

Happy Tuesday night. Gotta go make dinner.

Comments

Popular Posts