Monday, December 12, 2005

Art

...matters.

I spent the entire day thinking. I did give my thoughts on someone else's work earlier in the day, but since then I've been puzzling over a few ideas, wondering how they could possibly work on paper. At one time I used to doodle and scribble down notes, reams and reams of notes, but the older I get, the more time I spend in that airy little office in my head. I took my office for a long walk this afternoon. Chickadees peered in my window. Ravens flew over. Snow surrounded me, supported me. Snow sat on rocks and stumps, reclined on branches, crunched on my boots. Snow held the tracks of birds, dogs, foxes and people the same way. The only one dragging its feet was the writer.

2 comments:

pohanginapete said...

Chickadees peered in your office window? That's the office you took for a walk? Right now, if they did that to me, they'd just see a big, empty space.

Walking's brilliant for getting ideas and inspiration. It's something about the process. Have you read Rebecca Solnit's Wanderlust: A History of Walking?

Brenda Schmidt said...

Ha!

No, I haven't read it, but I certainly will. Thanks! Walking has always been part of my process. My latest manuscript came to be while walking. I wrote while I walked. I revised while I walked. When I sit, it tends to sit, too, and goes nowhere.