" I wandered lonely as a cloud that floats on high over vales and hills. When all at once I saw a crowd ... a host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine and twinkle on the Milky Way, they stretched in never-ending line along the margin of a bay. Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they out-did the sparkling waves in glee. A poet could not but be gay, in such a jocund company. I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought, what wealth the show to me had brought. For oft, when on my couch I lie, In vacant or in pensive mood ... they flash upon that inward eye, which is the bliss of solitude. And then my heart with pleasure fills, and dances with the daffodils." – William Wordsworth's "Daffodils".
It is a poem used time and again, a legend that repeats itself more than humanity can seem to keep up with spawning minds even remotely the likeness. We've all heard it. Read it. Written on it, willing and not. Still it remains, and always will. Not at all unlike the very art of which I choose to now identify & define it with.
As sure as writing is the one art that demands you are at your most alone, it is not only utter solitude, but the very bliss of it so depicted. It is only within such bliss that the greatest of creations are birthed. Like the Daffodils do they sprout, from the ashes of pain and toil, nurtured by the blood, sweat, and tears of their literal sorcerers. Yet, if you are anything like me, these seedlings tend to pop up by the legions, stretching in such never-ending possibility, their potential growing just as unchecked and unbridled. While nagging reality and every obstacle it has to offer leaves you to watch almost helpless as they pile upwards and outwards, like stars threatening never to burn out ... your own personal Milky Way of treasures simply waiting to be given a name, and then, to be gifted unto the world. A universe wrought from mysticism, awaiting mankind to grow stronger in wit enough to seize it. Just as our reality began solely as an idea, it takes a writer to seize such ideas and make them real. Perhaps it is our birthright. God's sole purpose for us, and why we walk in his image.
Still, we are only human and therefore do what we can, not only to make our peace with such a destiny, looming about us both in and out of our dreams ... but also, to nurture and protect them. They are our brain-children. The best and the worst parts of us harmoniously gift-wrapped within what messages we have to offer. Only a writer can make peace with such loneliness that is eternal reflection, and all the burdens that accompany it ... it is ours, alone, to bear. So, here I am, finally bearing it the only way I've yet come to know how. Though I bear it in mind that treading carefully on spilling the goods of my works-in-progress, fearing always the inevitable child-snatcher incapable of enduring the labor-pains that comes with the spawning of ideas ... always easier to take what you did not give in the first place, is it not? Putting ones own ideas on a pedestal has nothing to do with ego or arrogant conceit. They are yours to pride, and as a writer, you must never fail to do so; no matter the thoughts of critics.
Still, I know how such ideas hound you day in and day out, where it becomes unbearable to keep from sharing the highlights of your road so traveled ... even while you've not yet reached your destination. Such is where I find myself as I write this, wanting to share but with care not to give away spoilers of my current projects before they are published. So I've decided to use this page and all blogs to be categorized under it as a means to show that I practice what I preach, as is on my Scrivenerium page ... only, using my current works as examples in how I apply the tactics I so liberally share therein.
Of course, what writer can also resist the opportunities to pose their wish lists ... especially one such as myself whose ambition is to carry over from novelist to screenwriter to producer someday; constantly dreaming about how every aspect of my brain-children will be put to the flesh. From worthy portrayals (if only by comparison) to overall visions as setting themes and story elements (historical and otherwise) right down even to musical soundtracks! Oh, I've got it all. For as sure as any true writer thinks of writing from the moment they wake to the moment they get horizontal each night, so much time and space for the imagination comes with much to share! Thus, here I now and always, I share it all with you, my beloved readers!
Character portrayals & profiles. Visual montages for descriptive themes and settings. Posters & graphics for all the above. From examples that are Must-Have's, where no other imitations are acceptable to my visions ... to just comparisons that I definitely support being used to find the new blood of the next generation to deliver. Besides, with so little originality left in the world, who can resist playing the sorcerer's apprentice?? It is always only what you make of it that makes it original to begin with. Thus, feedback heavily encouraged here above all else, given it will help me get the sorcery of my brain between hard-covers and in your hands all the swifter! So stay tuned! There will always be something worth dishing out on this subject matter.
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