The writing process
These bold shades are blurring once sharp lines. Can’t seem to hold this pen without smudging as I slide along the page. It’s messy filling in the blank space between blue and red lines with black, overlapping. I try to control these words by forming each just right. I concentrate on drawing out each and every thought. These symbols of love and pain, they are far from clear, subject to subjective, we humans read between the lines. So how can I expect to get even close, to say what I want to say, but in words that you can interpret, translating not only thoughts to solid form but then converting them to universal truth, not withstanding. To communicate right and expose what’s wrong all along the way I am judged. It IS a process, pulling down clouds, scrambling to spin these plates, it’s exhausting.
