Dancing about Architecture

[hsessoms]

You know that movie where Angelina Jolie falls in love with Ryan Phillippe when he has blue hair. I would totally google it and tell you the name, but that’s a whole thing and I don’t really feel like doing it. Anywho, there’s this one scene where Ang and Ry (that’s what I call them when we’re hanging out) are talking about love and Ang says to Ry, “Talking about love is like dancing about architecture.” That’s sort of how I feel about writing—writing about writing is like dancing about architecture. It’s nigh impossible and a little pointless. But I’m going to do it anyway.

For me, writing is . . . not an option. I don’t ever say to myself, “Hmmm, maybe if I get time today I’ll write,” or, like I’ve heard some writer’s do, “I will sit down and write 3,000 words today no matter what!” For me, when I want to write I MUST!!! Resistance is futile. I HAVE to do it. These phrases or images will come to my mind and I have to get them out of me or else fear that they will bore a hole in my head and get out that way and then I’ll never see them again and I’ll have this ugly hole in my head that I’ll have to do something about. Though losing the images is a little more frightening then having a hole in my head.

The relief I feel when I do get these words out is indescribable. I am in love with my words. I want to marry my words and have babies with them. I want to snuggle by the fire with them and toast to our future. I want to grow old with them and hold their hand when I’m on my deathbed and whisper in their ear that I will see them on the other side.

I have tons of hobbies and the balance with writing and real life is the hardest one to attain. I don’t feel like I’m going to go crazy if I don’t finish knitting that blanket. I don’t put Cartoon Network on for hours a day (I know—bad mom!) so that I can plant mums and arrange them around pumpkins and gourds. I don’t sit for so long that my butt goes numb from sewing pajama pants because I was transported to another world. I don’t sacrifice anything for my other hobbies because these other hobbies are merely rearranging elements that already exist.

Writing is different. Writing is creating something from nothing. Writing is escaping for a moment. Writing, on a good day, is discovering that you’re a little in awe of yourself. Writing is making your dreams come true even if it’s only on paper. Who could resist that? Who would want to?

Anyone care to dance about that with me?

[aobeasley67]

I completely understand the NEED to write.