Responses, on the other hand, are not there – they are not there, and those images, better yet, youthful delusions above, did not happen. The reality is that this prescription I put out there is for sale – but it is also my panacea, and I suspect, that although I may not be the most effective hand at painting the picture, that there is enough impression in these words for those who also are not so verbose to go into the description of an ice cube in such immaculate detail to describe it down to the way the light filters through it as they pour another amber scotch over it – I am a simpler artist than that – drawing stick figures and mountains in black and white, and with some hope, expecting it to have a value – intrinsic and real value. Value that is defined more by the ability and character of a man, not just one or the other – not just product, but something that hopefully captures a few minutes of those words that we all aspire to, and the actions that we all control and create.
That’s my experience in the world of professional writing. Not much to speak of, other than giving up a little bit – afraid of sending more letters, more emails, more phone calls, not just of the critique, but of the other hard work – you have to feel to write, you have to really want to edit what it is you put out there, you have to make your thoughts cohesive and concrete – but leave enough space between the words so that there is enough room for the space between your readers ears to bounce around those thoughts, and either be taken away to a better place that you started as stick figures, or to pull them in to your place, and encourage them to take things as simple as I do.
Some pretty general entries these past couple of days, but remember, three nights down, fourteen to go, and progress, whether we choose it or not, is being made…