I once heard a psychiatrist say that writing is self aggrandizement. With a broad brush he painted people such
as Thoreau, Hemingway, Steinbeck, and Shakespeare, as bunch of ego maniacs. Maybe
they were, but the world is made better because they had the guts to put their
words onto paper.
Actors uplift. Artists inspire. Musicians enthrall. Birds
enchant. And the antics of babes, human or animal, never fail to bring a smile to
our lips, and they are not doing it for an audience. They do it because they
love doing it.
Because of their expression the world
rings, vibrates, dances, shines, and is made glorious.
Okay writers, let’s jump into the fray.
And follow Ray Brabury's advice: If it isn't fun, don't do it.
And speaking of glorious--spring has come to Oregon.
And follow Ray Brabury's advice: If it isn't fun, don't do it.
And speaking of glorious--spring has come to Oregon.
