What is it when you write? It is just words on paper? Is it happiness? Is it an escape? Maybe it's a feeling, to finish a book, story, Times article. For me, my writing is art.
Maybe I don't use a brush, but my words paint pictures in the minds of those who read my writing. I don't need an easel to prompt me. A blank Word document, or a notebook is all I must claim to unleash my artwork.
I don't need to have a wad of clay in my hands to create something beautiful. I use every word and sentence to sculpt my readers mind into whatever I please.
We manipulate those who wish to take steps into our heads; people who want to explore unheard
of places and creatures.
We take over their brains, making them feel as we felt when we wrote it. See as we saw. Maybe they can smell Grandma's freshly baked ginger bread cookies you wrote a paragraph about. Maybe they can feel the softness of the silent angel's wings you spent a whole page describing. We take our senses and thrust them upon the readers. It's just what we do.
It's that high I wait for. To see someone's face as they run their finger over the pages my pen stabbed into. To actually feel each word.
This is what we are. It's what we strive for.
We are writers.
We are readers.
We are dreamers.
We are schemers.
Creating our own worlds with pens and paper. Giving birth to demons and teenage girls with vampire fangs. Growing trees with blue leave and bushes that bear diamond rings.
We are heroes, that go about like normal citizens everyday.
We are creators.
Animators.
Like Dr. Frankenstein, only we don't need corpses and lightening.
We just need inspiration and something to write with.
We are thinkers.
But, above all, we are artists.
-mt0
