Grateful for the freedom of expression
Especially when I'm alone, I often sing very loud. And at times making notes doesn't feel right on the computer and I write them down in a notebook instead. When I want speed, I type. When I want to leave room for creativity, I use a pen and paper instead. When I'm trying to solve a problem, I often draw about it: graphs, lists, pictures, whatever helps me to solve it. When I feel energetic and hear good music, I dance like crazy. I play characters to my kids at times, because they love it and it's a great way for me to perform exactly the amount I feel happy performing. But most of all, I write.
I have been writing since I was a child. My first story was about a girl with long, blue hair. She didn't do anything in particular, she just was particular. I think the date of this story is in 1989.
In my youth, I wrote letters and stories. My teachers encouraged me year after year. My family and friends have reminded me over the years I can do it. Looking back, people have always been supporting me about my writing and it's the only thing where I don't second-guess myself. I still write a lot of half-finished thoughts and even bad stuff, but most importantly I write every day and at times I write something really brilliant, too.
Writing helps me to deal with things. Sometimes I get agitated about something and then I write about it. At times I just feel so amazing that I feel I need to record that, too. I write about my dreams, secret wishes, my fears. It makes me grow more than any other form of expression. The first blog I had was 700 pages long when I saved it on my hard drive. Just like with anything, over time you get a bit better. Quantity assures quality.
I'm really grateful that people have noticed my forte all my life. It's, after all, one of the only things I can think of doing now and in the future to feel purposeful. I'm grateful I'm born in a place and time where I don't have to question my rights about expressing myself, no matter what outlet I was to choose.
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| I don't know how a pine cone fits the picture though. Image: pixabay.com |
I have been writing since I was a child. My first story was about a girl with long, blue hair. She didn't do anything in particular, she just was particular. I think the date of this story is in 1989.
In my youth, I wrote letters and stories. My teachers encouraged me year after year. My family and friends have reminded me over the years I can do it. Looking back, people have always been supporting me about my writing and it's the only thing where I don't second-guess myself. I still write a lot of half-finished thoughts and even bad stuff, but most importantly I write every day and at times I write something really brilliant, too.
Writing helps me to deal with things. Sometimes I get agitated about something and then I write about it. At times I just feel so amazing that I feel I need to record that, too. I write about my dreams, secret wishes, my fears. It makes me grow more than any other form of expression. The first blog I had was 700 pages long when I saved it on my hard drive. Just like with anything, over time you get a bit better. Quantity assures quality.
I'm really grateful that people have noticed my forte all my life. It's, after all, one of the only things I can think of doing now and in the future to feel purposeful. I'm grateful I'm born in a place and time where I don't have to question my rights about expressing myself, no matter what outlet I was to choose.
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