The words I write

I read my last entry and am awe-struck. To me it seems to convey exactly what I was thinking and striving to convey. It may not be clear to others but somehow I wasn`t writing for another audience, just for myself. Is that the key? That any endeavor, any artistic or creative effort must be first and foremost dedicated to oneself? To be true to your own feelings? It just seems when I am caught up in explaining the ideas that seem to explode in my head that they come out most clearly and flow with a passion. True that I can get caught up in the moment and loose myself in philosophical questioning but there are moments to be sure. Moments of re-reading when the words and phrases match the scenery and images in my head. Is that true writing?

Its a dilemma that writers must all face. Do we write for an audience to understand or do we write to explain our own urges. Sometimes it feels as if I would go crazy if I could not shape these thoughts into words and those often come out the clearest and strongest. So a writer must feel strongly about his subject, that is clear. But I believe, for myself that they come out most coherently when I write to myself. Not a dear self letter, but as if every word represented a second added onto my life, if it was clear and conveyed exactly what stirred around upstairs then I had a few more moments of sanity.

I remember a quote by a good painter that went something like "I can never recreate what I saw exactly, it becomes a copy devoid of what made it special for me. I must paint something that represents those strong feelings, that way it is from me and true to me." It seems she is expressing thoughts similar to mine, that the world is not the same to everyone and cannot be described in such black and white terms. We all color it a little bit differently and the act of finding those special colors is what stimulates the creative urge.

And god, I keep coming back to the sword. The truest and smoothest use of it in training has always come with letting my body move naturaly. Trying to conform to stances and techniques that are at odds with each other feels unnatural and like they are abrasive. I know it begins to sound mystical and almost lost in vague descriptions but everyday it seems the borders separating the different acts of life get thinner and thinner. That what once I thought was seperate is now inter-connected, no, not interconnected but lacking any single defining difference. Ahh, these thoughts.