Simply, from love.

I wonder if the ability to be superfluous in this day and age is a show of intellectual astuteness, or just someone preaching like a snob? I read over my musings, and general literary articles, and wonder if I need to enhance the depth, the intensity, maybe even the vividness of my works. But I feel like it moves away from the ability to connect to others, how poetic license is a balance between simplicity and also connection, finding the correct level for the right audience.

In my works I love the elusive nature of description, how one can twist constructs and ideas to create a new way of showing the world something. How stars become light, and light holds bonds, bonds we can’t even imagine, bonds of inter-connectivity that shine through all waves of expression. How darkness is a vehicle for literal and metaphorical constructs and how the beauty of language can give that vehicle meaning, nay beauty.

Beauty for me holds the simplicity of something natural, in a supernatural way. How something like a galaxy, can be something distant, ephemeral, in our everyday lives, and yet it holds something wonderful, something ineffable about it that I cannot but think, wow that is marvelous. I look back at the ideas I’ve held in my mind, and I wonder if that is who I am, taking the things I hold dear, such as love, and nature, and how I mature those concepts within simplicity. How I create levels of emotion, connecting to people by just writing what I feel, what I understand it to be.

I guess what I’m trying to say, is that stay true to yourself. Things can change in a heart beat, and while adapting is survival, remembering where you come from is part of where you are going.

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