I have always loved to write, not just to have written as some famous writers have contended. When I am in the writing state it often takes me to an exquisite space where I am lost in a world of both beauty and reckoning. For me, the beauty of writing is in capturing a mood, an experience or inspiration, distilling it down to something universally recognizable as essence. While I don’t always do it well, there are some occasions when I succeed. What’s more, the process can become a delicious birthing of sorts, somewhat akin to a rhapsody transmitting both melody and a lyrical clarity that takes on a life of its own. There are times I cannot stop myself from writing, possessed with an urgency to translate what at first appears ineffable into something cohesive and sure, rich with meaning, containing nutrients to feast on in the process and even later on. Quite simply, it connects a smaller me to a larger Me, expanding my awareness in the process.
For communication, a fervent connection, is the name of the game. Even the Divine knows that! I almost imagine Him laughing at my depiction of His intention. After all, why else would Michelangelo have the capacity or desire to paint the fingers of God and Adam pointing at one another, projecting their transmission onto the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling? From whence did Michelangelo’s inspiration come if not from the Divine? Implied in this, of course, is His (and my) insatiable appetite to communicate, to connect, not just to myself but to others as well. Why else would this ceaseless impulse be given any of us?
And so, in my own humble way, I offer my modest creations painted not with a brush but a palette of words, all in an effort to render the depths of my heart as I understand it in any given instant or experience. It thumps away, that heart, never resting except in the silence that occurs between each beat. Consequently, the itch to write resides in that silence, demanding attention, requiring I give language between my small sense of self to the larger One. For in the end, I am absorbed in something greater than my finite mind and heart can even imagine, knowing all along I must honor it if I am to be true to my very nature.
Very literary indeed. Where is the rest of it? I need to hear more!
Very nice, Rosalie. I have not thought to interpret the finger of Adam and God before pointing at each other, and I especially like the last paragraph.
Such a lovely experience! My ex-husband often asks me why I live where I do and I reply “The Birds”. Such a peaceful, communing experience with the bird in the chimney. I see I need to go out and buy a hummingbird feeder. Maybe tomorrow!