Write about faith.

i see, quite often, sharp edges
  upon clouds… blades
  within heaven, which
  cause me to worry.
for though this mist would not
  cut through our flesh
  as does steel, what
  of fragile spirits…
  recently sent from this
  world in a furious
  manner.
will they feel their spirit torn as
  was their skin… only
  to fall back down to
  this hell. 

I could kid around and say there simply wasn’t enough oestrogen here before and now I’m here to fix that.  But the truth is that I got to know William via the old Frozen Man and we got to writing back and forth discussing the craft of writing, life, love and everything in between. 

What defines art?  A lot of people believe that true art is paint upon canvas, watercolor upon paper or the likes.  A sculpted piece of marble.  A sketched portrait.

There is another type of art which has been gaining a lot of acceptance among the general public as of late.  It is a much more permanent form of art.

Tattooing.  Art upon skin.  How much more personal can it get.

It is always a joy to read a novel that features more than one voice.  When there are multiple narrators and each has a very distinctive voice, you know that you are in the hands of a masterful writer and that so long as the plot can carry these people to interesting places, the novel will be an interesting read.

Write about regrowth.

They are good for the soul, these fresh starts.  Life becomes stagnant so quickly and before one knows it, they are walking in a straight line.  Like a tire stuck in a worn groove, we walk in rigid lines… the kind which offer little flexibility in terms of how far we can dream. 

Something which is important to remember is that writing requires a limber gait.  As writers, we need the freedom to stray from our path often.  Some may tell you it is to stop and “smell the flowers”, and though this may be true for them, it is my opinion that we need to stray from our path in order to fail.  We need to feel the ground give way that we may challenge our beliefs.

Life is not supposed to make sense all of the time.  We cannot feel secure in ourselves, nor in the air we breathe, and most certainly not in our loved ones.

We must slip and fall… to bruise, bleed, heal and finally write about the experience.

We’d been thinking about it for a while… we being myself, William and Tristan.  Unfortunately, we had been slacking off on our writing and decided to jump-start our creative juices (so to speak).