May we always keep writing. All kinds of writing, for words make the world go around.
A. R. Gurney, New York Playwright, had a wonderful feature article written about his play, 'Love Letters,' in 'The San Francisco Chronicle', dated November 19, 1989. Here is an excerpt from that article, a quote from Gurney about writing:
"I feel most alive when I'm holed up in some corner, writing things down. I pick up a pen, and almost immediately everything seems to take shape around me...I love writing letters to the newspaper, notes to my friends, Christmas cards, anything where I have to put down words...This letter, which I'm writing with my own hand, with my own pen, in my own penmanship, comes from me and no one else, and is a present of myself to you... It's not a telephone call, which is dead as soon as it's over."
True for me. I've always written. But I've always written within the lines, perhaps restricting me.
I never doodled on my notes, but I always liked to sketch and draw. Became an expert drafter before I could no more. But I still remember making posters for parties that I held with an image of my hillside cottage sketched on it. I made multiple copies and then, colored them, to post and hand out so that people could come if they wanted to. Have even done some of my book covers, too.
But whenever I write with my voice I'm in my own little world like A R Gurney described, closing everything out–my aches and pains, even all other thoughts, focused at the task at hand until it's over.
A lovely reminder, Diane. Your words capture the simple truth that writing keeps us alive to ourselves and to one another. There’s something deeply human in the act of putting pen to paper, and you honor that beautifully here.
Succinct but very broad in its umbrella of truth. It continues to sadden me that so much of writing, especially with young people, is relegated to sbreviated text and memes. Like the article shares with us, writing, that very alone place of solitude and peace, the pen, the pencil, the keyboard all share the essence of communication: the projection of words, whole words, whole paragraphs, et al. The last line is so pertinent: "it's not a telephone call, which is dead as soon as it's over." This is such a reality, perhaps only writers can wholeheartedly understand and cherish. Thank you for posting such a wake-up call for the many who sadly will only be read by a few. A definite addition to my reflection chest.
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