Monday, April 12, 2010

Driving, Skies, Poppet. Humans. Stories.


Today was lots of driving, mostly in and around the eucalyptus-scented hills of Hollywood.

I seem to be learning about writing as I write.

It makes sense, when writing, not to try to write the stories we're in. Stories seem better written with the perspective that time brings to them. I don't know this yet, I am only guessing.

It also makes sense to note bits of detail that will very likely get lost or forgotten.

It seems to me that quite a lot of my life is sketched in the margins of notebooks.

g'night

3 comments:

Melissa P said...

Life sketched in the margins. There's a creative seed for many artistic endeavors in that phrase.

Carl V. said...

As we look back on it, aren't some of the very best parts of our lives the things that turn out to be sketched in the margins? I certainly find that to be true myself anyway. I find it equally true that I have to fight the urge to actively seek those margin experiences, or rather not chase after past margin experiences, just to try to recapture the pleasure found in the memories of those events. While I am a firm proponent in living the examined life and looking back over what has occurred, I do find it difficult sometimes to keep going forward rather than trying to go back and grab hold of the comforting things of the past.

The Old Maid said...

I have just dscovered your Etsy and your blog - the poppets are fab! One day I will buy one of these stunning little ones:)