Sometimes I think I am crazy... really. There is a constant stream of words pouring through my head at all times and when I take the time to listen I almost feel like I am spying on someone else's thoughts. Occasionally, I catch the words, phrases and ideas like the little dandelion fluffs that blow in the wind and commit them to paper or blog and pass them along with a wish that they'll inspire someone else or touch someone else's life. That's the writing process for me. If I try to sit down and write, nothing comes to me. Let me get into the car alone for longer than a few minutes and words and phrases literally tumble out of my brain and it's all I can do to remember them until later. I've seriously contemplated getting a voice recorder so that I can do a better job of catching them before they fall out and are never found again but everytime I am in a place that sells that type of thing, I don't remember that I want one.
Other times I write to let the pain or joy of the day out and allow others to soothe the wounds or rejoice with me. A diary just doesn't provide that kind of feedback and I share so much better in the written word than I do when spoken. I fumble through speaking how I feel yet writing how I feel comes naturally. This makes for difficult waters with a husband who is the exact opposite. The art of clear communication will always be a mystery between us, I think.
(For more Sunday Scribblings on writing please click in the link on the sidebar!)