Friday, November 20, 2015

So That's Why You Write

“Go into the arts. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something” - Kurt Vonnegut

"Is that why you write? I always wondered." - Anybody I know, all the time, about my writing
I don't have any tattoos for the same reason I don't wear hot pink. It would pick up the yellow in my teeth. Not everything looks good on me and it would be the same with permanent ink, just an enhancement of features, like loosey chicken-skin, that's something I don't need.
That said, if I were to say screw it and get a tattoo, it would be the words of Kurt Vonnegut up there. Of course the tattoo artist's first choice would be my backside for its tempting vastness but I would choose a micro-font and have this on my forehead so I wouldn't have to answer for the third time in a month, "Soooooooooooooo, you blog for F-R-E-E? Yah no I don't do anything for free."
Then I wouldn't stand there, my mouth yapping open and closing saying nothing because I don't have energy to say everything and screaming BLOGGING ISN'T FREE FOR ME would embarrass my kids in this small town.
But For Free implies work in return of nothing. 
And writing here in this space, my own publishing realm, is not ever 'no return'.
I am a grown woman who still gets to create.
I get to respond to what is happening in the world.
In exchange for giving up my time, I gain happiness.
I gain pleasure.
When my thoughts keep me awake, I get to come here.  
I get to be a badass.
I get to fall in love with words every day.
I get to take a minute and think about things, every day.
I get to try and capture all of  *this* before it turns to dust.
Because when I tap away, time stands still.
I get closer to who I am and where I'm going.
I come here so I can finish a thought.
There is a power in telling your story.
I write as an act of faith.

My words have a home.

I love hitting publish, seeing the screen blink and flash, and then seeing, that *there* what I've just written.

I feel proud of myself when I write.
I write because the best surprise of all is when something that starts out sad becomes funny.
Darkness lifts when I write.
This blog is a place where I exist.
I write on my blog for free, but I'm not sacrificing myself on an altar.

I hear my children say, "my mom's a writer," and I hear their voices grow robust at "writer."
I am deep into my house when I read, revise, rearrange, take out, plunk back in, find the one sentence that will do what keeps me visible in this world.
I write, and I have created something.


  1. We're just lucky you share what you create.

    1. You are so generous and kind, Korinthia. Thank you.

  2. You sure did create something, darling. Art. Community. Understanding. Connection.

  3. You sure have created something. Art. Community. Understanding. Connection.

  4. You have crystallized what all of us bloggers feel, but many of us, or at least I didn't, have a way to say it. It is deeply personal and therefore, deeply fulfilling. And Vonnegut's words, while a tad verbose for an ass tattoo, are brilliant and spot on as well. Hugs.

    1. I've known you for so long in blogging years. Over 5. And grateful that I do. Thank you.



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