It comes from living. In bliss, in tear and heartbreak but mostly it comes for reading. Writers read every bit as much as they write if not more. Reading improves the state of my mind, giving it the foundation to create. It is the good bones needed to sustain my ideas.
All that is nothing if one does not write for as simple as it sounds, a writer writes.
Stephen Gjertson's An English Table
Bliss is more elusive than easy fortune but ever so often I stumble upon it
There in the curve in the road that leads to the perfect cafe where a smiling stranger waits
Only I’ve been thought never to engage strangers so I observe from a distance
It start to rain out and I open my book and pretend to read
The smiling stranger is soon joined by a pretty girl with wet hair and tragic shoes
He rise to greet her with fond smile and warm hug
I can’t hear what they saying but I imagine it is sweet and affirming
I’m thrilled for seeing them there together fully grown and knowing that they came from deep within me confirms for me bliss and my love for my craft
This I've written today.
My love my care,