I feel I am my best self when I write. To portray life as it is as well as it should or could be. I suppose that is what a painter feels as well or a dancer, a sculptor…

Writing brings me a contentment in the moment not feeding the future or regretting the past. Sometimes when I hear or read  a string of words together my ears perk up like when the wind whispers in them.

I know that I’m not saying anything new but for me writing feels like the process of the sea’s relentless movement or the running river water as they both over time smooth the sharp edges off of broken glass or a  rock and reshape them into something beautiful to behold.

I know most things never change but to attempt to express a feeling or fragrance or a picture using words is my passion.

Here is an example of what I am saying…

Wisteria grew along the weathered splintered gray fence that had long been forgotten. The fragrance of the wisteria permeated the bright spring day and it made her feel lightness in her heart that she had not experienced in a long while. She thought about how precious her memories of first love are for there-in  lies treasure in the pleasure and the pain…

I feel a story coming on…to be continued I hope.