Leave a comment

May 7, 2015 by musehick

Week rolls on. That old game of time. Ideas crystallise, and time to execute them fails to manifest, and the demands of schedule force in new things. We get half way there, but it is better than nowhere near.

I am an artist, and I succeed through working hard as a motherfucker. Build a wall and you never put as much of yourself into it as a writer. I hate the notion of bleeding on the page – fuck that, I didn’t open a vein and gush; even if this page comes out raw as I wrote it there is some craft there.

I am emotionally available, not diarrhetic. Some people and their bullshit metaphors turn this whole art form into a circle jerk, and it shouldn’t ever be that; need never be that.

I think fast, so everything I write is considered. I don’t say it if I don’t mean it, but I can edit it if I change my mind. Neither version is a lie. Do I sound angry sometimes? Hmm. You just don’t know how to read the passion distilled herein.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Nanowrimo 2013


Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,052 other followers

Blog Stats

  • 2,181 hits
May 2015
« Apr   Jun »

Flickr Photos


fishing real

hook lion and synch her

new morning greeted

living with a woken heart

turvy autopsy

turning the body over

%d bloggers like this: