30 Topic Challenge: 12- Something you’re proud of
Writing is like exploring a maze in my mind. I just follow the words and strings of thought until I hit a wall, and then I pick up and continue on again. It’s like freestyle rapping, except on paper. I’ve always loved the joy I feel when I get in the groove and my fingers are flying. Sentence after sentence after sentence. If you’re a veteran reader, you’ve already read about my obsession with blank paper. (haven’t seen that yet? Here.) It’s always been there, and I’ve never shied away from writing down thoughts. I love filling the stark white with words and doodles.
In middle school I would carry extra notebooks in my backpack to write down stories. At one point I bought a tiny composition book to write down those burning thoughts and ideas, because JK Rowling did the same thing. I’m pretty sure every writer does that, but I’ve always looked up to her (obviously)! My writing was mediocre, but held promise. I look back at it fondly, as one should with their art. Never regret what you make, because it’s never wrong.
It wasn’t until I met my significant other that I really took off. Something about our different artist minds left such a mark on the other. We really connected through the words we would put out. He shook my creativity to its core and turned it upside down. I think that’s one of my favorite things about us; we have a language as artists. We completely understand and accept each other. He’s inspired me from the very beginning to explore every corner of my creativity.
I’ve always battled with it, because the ideas are fleeting. When I thought of something that could be expanded it would bother me until I finally wrote it down and thought it out. I’ve never been able to sit at my computer and call something forward. They just occur, in the shower, while I’m driving, while I’m working…but never on demand. I can’t ever just stop and start a piece, either. I’ll write something down, get a few paragraphs in, then come back to it later with much less exhilaration that I had before. The vibrancy fades. But that feeling after I’ve gotten a piece out and I can finally breathe….it’s like coming up for air after swimming for a long time. The tunnel vision goes away and I can appreciate what I’ve done.
I’m proud of how far I’ve come. I may not be the best, but I very much enjoy what I do. It’s not easy. A lot of the time it’s the most frustrating experience. But to me, there is no greater joy or pride.
Next week: A problem you have! This should be interesting.