On Palm Trees & Paisleys
edited: Tuesday, November 06, 2007
By Wm. Eric Hammond
Rated "G" by the Author.
Posted: Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Become a Fan
Living in Florida, and in my own head.
There are advantages and disadvantages to living anywhere, I suppose. Having lived my whole life in Florida, I sometimes take for granted what others envy.
I have never shoveled snow. I can read a book in a hammock in shorts & a T-shirt... in March. Our cars don't need snow tires. I can drive a minute off of any major road and find jungle, thick and lush and beautiful, or a lake full of fish, snatched from the shiny waters by bald eagles and osprey. I can go to almost any body of water deeper than three feet – retention pond, swimming pool, park fountain, doesn't matter - and admire a giant prehistoric lizard, motionless, sunning itself and coldly eying a spaniel on the end of a leash.
Being a Floridian is often a blessing.
Being a writer is a blessing, in a similar way. I can take a detour off the beaten path and discover a wild and dazzling world that never existed, and still doesn't except in the crackling ether of my head. Dizzying flights through a paisley-patterned never-land are the norm. And if the monsters in my everyday life are big, imagine the ones in the cranial alternate reality. Yet, even with the ability a writer has to dissolve the here-and-now and reconstitute it into the there-and-what?, touching the exuberance and pain and bliss of the inner person is the true journey of the writer, even if the landscape is but a white sheet of paper, or monitor screen.
Being a writer is often a blessing.