Bold and Restless

Last week Megan posted this quote:

"In order to write we must have an awareness of who we are--and who we aren't. If you don't know either, writing can help teach it.

Know that writing is born from the ache of contraries, polarities in search of peace, of unity. But not the unity of making mush. You want to live in the country. Your husband is an urban boy. You compromise and both live in the suburbs. What a squash of desire and energy.

Can you instead hold the tension until something fresh and howling results? You must find your way to this when you write.

What bold restless extremes do you carry inside?"

This struck me. It expresses, in a different way, a view of writing about which I feel strongly.

Writing is a form of art. Through art truth is conveyed or the process of exploring and discovering truth is documented. Without the aim of sharing truth, writing can be “making mush” or a noise adding to an unintelligible din.

The most poignant of pieces are those that express a truth of human experience or thought that is timeless. A written piece does not have to encapsulate the entire truth of the world, but it holds at least a tiny aspect of truth. Sometimes it is only the simple truth that someone else out there in feels the same way as I do about a facet of the world.

It makes me wonder if this sharing and discovering of another or the greater picture may just be what puts those restless extremes to rest.

Some more of mine:

The worst environment for writing is one that is quiet enough you can hear every solitary conversation or sound clearly. The best environment is one of silence or enough noise that the sounds blend together into the background; both following several repeats of my writing songs.

Mr. Knightley is the best of Jane Austen's heroes.

Cranky typically equals hungry, tired, overwhelmed, or all of the above.

A pop of red makes everything better.

More than anything I want to be a wife and mother 
and to turn a house into a home.

Human love is a reflection of an even greater love. 
Despite how undeserving I feel, I am lovable. God loves me.

I have a burning desire to do something big and make a difference. Sometimes the big thing is to simply live and see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

What are some of yours?

Have a wonderful weekend!

Hugs, 
Christina