Writing is like anything else you need to practice and keep
practicing the craft. I equate it to sawing off a log with a hand saw. You have
to keep going until you run out of steam, rest for a bit then get back at it. I’ve
been keeping a journal for many years. On occasion I would fill it with songs,
poems and stories along the way. Mostly
I used it to work through stuff that was going on in my life. Grab some coffee, my smokes, a spiral bound
notebook and a pen then go to town. Sometimes I would fill 5 to 6 pages before I put the pen down. The
time spent was really helpful at different points along my path. Thinking on paper I suppose you could call it.
Now I am at a point in my life where things
are good, very good and I find that I want to use those writing muscles in a
different way. I use little exercises to
keep the creative juices flowing and I find myself collecting things and ideas
here and there. I collect things like a phrase that becomes a thread in an old sweater
that keeps unraveling as you pull it or an unusual name for a street or a
person, a chance glimpse that brings to mind a connection to something old
relating to something new.
I find myself looking forward to being home to write after work at
night. I do have some time in the morning so I take advantage of that too.
Every little bit is another little bit and those bits come together bit by
bit. And so I continue to practice and
collect bits.
