Writer’s Relief posted the above picture on Facebook with the following caption: “Describe being a #writer without using the words ‘writer,’ ‘write,’ or ‘words.’ #writingprompt #writinglife.” I’m always down for a good writing prompt, so I decided to share my (short) response here.
A somber-looking stranger on the train. The bewitching pre-dawn hours while alone at my desk. A long-abandoned building with “beautiful bones” observed during a walk in the neighborhood. Any and all of these things could be the catalyst for my muse to alight upon my shoulder and whisper into my ear. My mind starts churning, thoughts fill my head beyond capacity and I must (no, I really must) transfer those thoughts to page or screen. Sometimes those penned or keyboarded thoughts make it to a wider audience than my own two eyes. In some bizarre corner of the universe, a company or a person will pay me for the privilege of baring my soul/art/modestly dressed thoughts to the masses. It is then that my strokes and clicks are subject to the whims of a fickle public.
It’s a blessing and a curse. Like Badu said, “I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my shit.” All good though. I’m always flabbergasted that anyone is interested in anything I have to say, much less pay for it. I’m grateful.