Starting this month I am going to have a guest blog once a month. I will alternate between writers and artists. I believe it is important for people who are in a creative field to support and learn from each other.
This month guest blog is by Sherrill Wark, a gifted writer. For more information on Sherrill visit her website at:
On Being a Writer by Sherrill Wark
I am a writer. I have been endowed with the gift of seeing the world from the underside of a leaf in the Universe’s garden. I have eight eyes so I see things from extraordinary angles. Each of my eight feet clings to a string created from my body and these strings thrum when touched by anything, the slightest breeze sending music to me along their lengths.
I am a writer. I sip the rose’s wine as I creep toward the spider’s threads. Do I see them? Do I not? What hold has the rose’s wine over me? How deeply does it intoxicate me? Blind me to danger?
I am writer. I am a the gardener leaning in to inhale the scents wrought through the work of my own hands, eyes catching sight of the hated creature’s web, grey lace between the stems of my beloved Marchesa Boccela. Do I crush the spider between my fingers? Or the aphid who steals my rose’s blood?
I am a writer. I may allow one, any or all of these dramas to unfold simultaneously while scribbling notes from some as-yet-undiscovered planet circling a small sun in the outer edge of Andromeda. What power I have! What things I have seen. What strange goings-on I can report.
I am a writer. I am able to see and feel and hear and smell and touch things that others have no wish to experience except vicariously. I have the power to control the lives of the creatures I watch. But am I able to sense what lies behind me? That eye peering at me with profound curiosity from a parallel universe? I am a writer. I am the mind behind that eye as well.