moving my heart away, piece by piece
I really want to write. I haven't had any drive to do this in quite some time. I was talking to Corey about how it starts with writing haikus and then it grows out of control (you know, the basic quality vs quantity argument). Well, I wrote a few impromptu haikus the other night/morning on the phone. And now I'm finding myself saying disgustingly prolific things in conversation.
Aye!
One of my regrets: never being published. Especially during the time period where the words just flowed out of me. And it was effortless. And pretty much... perfect.
I realize now I had a lot more talent than I recognized. And maybe I was afraid to recognize it because it would make me appear pretentious or egomaniacal or some other word that jealous people slap on your ass when you show a little confidence.
Is talent one of those things that shrivels up and dies when you don't use it? Do you have to water it and give it proper sunlight like a bouquet of Valentine's lillies you'll forget to press in their prime? Hmmmmmmm???
Me, I press flowers in my dictionary.
Fear? Fear of judgement? Fear of... recognition?
Fear has nothing to do with it.
Aye!
One of my regrets: never being published. Especially during the time period where the words just flowed out of me. And it was effortless. And pretty much... perfect.
I realize now I had a lot more talent than I recognized. And maybe I was afraid to recognize it because it would make me appear pretentious or egomaniacal or some other word that jealous people slap on your ass when you show a little confidence.
Is talent one of those things that shrivels up and dies when you don't use it? Do you have to water it and give it proper sunlight like a bouquet of Valentine's lillies you'll forget to press in their prime? Hmmmmmmm???
Me, I press flowers in my dictionary.
Fear? Fear of judgement? Fear of... recognition?
Fear has nothing to do with it.