I’m prone to wonder…curious how my life would have been if certain individuals had never crossed my path, or I had never wandered onto theirs, or if they had never existed. I just wonder – and then, I realize that wondering is pointless. Dreaming of an utopian existence will only ever be just that: a dream. So, instead of wiping clean my memories like the bad had never shadowed me or tripped me or shoved me in the dirt is just as fruitless as if I were to imagine… a perfect line of ideal events that settled me comfortably in the right direction; because, all those left turns and right turns and U-turns and ignored stop signs put people in my life that tore down my pride, forced me to re-evaluate my choices, my faith, myself…lent me a hand when I was digging out of the mud, showed me patience and solidified friendships with a stronger bond than would have been possible if I were merely the same person I was before growing up turned my dream into my harsh reality. I wonder why reality has to be harsh, and I think that…of course it has to be! A gorgeous vase is first wet clay, molded and beaten and molded and beaten and thrown into the kiln to strengthen, before it can proudly support a bouquet of lilies.
It is baffling. Baffling is the reality that a writer’s craft develops. I recently, just this morning in fact, scrolled through the previous posts in this most ridiculous of blogs, and found my own craft to have been lacking – severely. Clutter abounds. Euphemisms overwhelm. Colloquial jargon is ghastly. Immature interjections of thought consume the page. It all makes me shudder to think that I was once at that stage in my writing capabilities, but now that I have been at university (again) for the past two months, I have seen a drastic alteration of my craft. Because of this exposer to an education in the art of English language and literature, my words have become more calculated. My style is more refined, disciplined, steady and focused. I was tempted – for the briefest moment – to delete my past, and consider today a new day for expressing my creative talents, but I did not. Why? I want you, most noble reader, to see this development. I want you, most noble reader, to watch me transform. You have been given a glimpse into the progressive nature of one writer’s talent, and I hope that it wizens you to the fact that your own style and perspectives will grow and alter and conform to the urges of your fingers – in time.
I won’t delete my previous posts, however droll and immature they may be, because I want you, just as I have done, to experience the building of a creative foundation. Layers are thin and shaky in the beginning, but they thicken and maintain weight with each new layer of myself I add to the mixer. Likewise will each post I post press layer atop layer atop layer till the most articulate words comprise the surface of my craft.