Get me dat purpose.

Another new draft – check. Maybe the 100 or so words in each of the others will collectively form into some brilliant piece of masterful thinking that I could never pull off in one go. Or perhaps I’ll check up on each one of them next week, or the week after, and keep writing with the false hope that they’ll be posted/published one day (ah, I know it won’t happen). Although something interesting has happened today. I guess I’ve come to a few surprising conclusions on a day that was filed with browsing Flickr and talking to people smarter than myself. I’ve found that jumping in the deep end, when not even attempting to remember/consider the survival backstroke (that’s about all I learnt in school swimming lessons), is not the best way to go about writing and reading and generally attempting to revitalise my creativity. I have a feeling that experience is what I need, and that trail and error will only get me so far – I say this without too much conviction, as failing will surely only help me grow with my writing (?). Reading, I hope, is what is needed to push me in the write (heh) direction; particularly pieces that are similar to what I want to attempt to write. However, a wild conundrum appears (unfortunately not just found in tall grass): what do I want to write? Is it poetry? Short lines of romantic drawl, that I seem to be able to piss out, but never again read without having a mild fit. Is it short stories? Filled with characters I can’t imagine, or with actions that I can’t seem to find at all serious or without being hopelessly lame. Maybe it’s a comedic masterpiece? As oh my goodness I’m full of laughs; i mean, it’s not only my stories of flatulence with each meal that get people rolling on the floor (of course not in disgusted states of judgement). And to whom do I write, and with what feelings and emotions do I portray? Maybe I’ll write it to my pals over on facebook, and fill them with laughs, poetic romance or wonder at my imaginative stories. At least there I feel I can get away with extraordinarily long sentences that are poorly spaced and terribly punctuated.

I need purpose when writing.

May your road lead you to warm sands, or snowy glaciers, or pineapples and cherries.


What am I even doing here?

So I’ve decided to finally get that written-blog post thing going. Here I am.

I’ve had the same blank ‘New Draft’ page open for about a week, with nothing to show for it. What a good start; it’s not like I knew this wasn’t going to happen, but it’s time it changed I guess, and a little intro never hurt anyone – particularly seeing as it’ll be a non-violent narration of my thoughts.

I’m 21, and I’ve lost my ‘artsy’ self. I know it’s in here somewhere, and it’s damn-well time to flesh it out. 4 years in hiding is far too long.

This blog could turn into anything, but right now it’s going to stay as an introduction to a new beginning, a start at getting my creative pineapple-juices flowing, a leap into something that could take me anywhere. Hopefully somewhere snowy, with mountains and rivers, goats, Hobbits and Elves, and me dragging my imagination along for a solid, A+ ride to creating a little charm.

May your road lead you to warm sands, or snowy glaciers, or pineapples and cherries. ❤