Friday, September 17, 2010

I write.

I write.

Yup, that's what I do for a living. I take whatever's in my head and put it on paper. Sometimes, I visit new worlds and drop by old ones. Ideas tend to flit through my brain and I need to capture them before I lose them. I try not to worry about whether or not they're publishable, not a first. The process is what's important. Many people don't understand my obsession. It's more than a pleasant habit; it's more like breathing. It's necessary. It's hard to explain to someone who doesn't understand. My words run on the paper without end and my voice can't be silent.

I spy.

I watch people under lowered lids. The woman next to me is wearing a dark shirt with jeans, her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. She's studying something. Another man behind me is wearing gray shorts and is paging through a newspaper.

No, I'm not with the CIA, FBI, DEA, MI5, NCIS, Interpol or any mishmash of alphabet soup. I like to observe people from afar, their appearances and attitudes. You ca tell a lot about a person without their saying a single word. Are they dedicated? Young or old? Happy or angry at the world? What kind of personality do they show? Their likes or dislikes? The human body betrays every nuance. It cannot hide the truth.

I create.

I do it through words, notes and pictures. No one can tell me it's worthless. Every idea is worth pursuing. So what if it turns out nowhere? Like Edison, you know what doesn't work so you can find out what does.

People come alive and thoughts are brought into being. They exist in limbo until someone breathes substance into them. As a creator, it's my job---like being a midwife and seeing children born into your hands.

All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010

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