Saturday, May 12, 2012

six month budgetary meeting

Writing can reveal, transform. It feels like climbing to the top of a hill every morning. Sometimes it chases you, tackles you, forces you to say. Other times it hides and stays silent until you finally scream uncle. It is everything you ever thought about yourself and all those things you want. It is struggle, evolution as you grip to a past you once thought you forgot. There are moments when you think this is it and you compose a love letter telling writing, this is it you dastardly bastard, you complete me and I love you so much. Most times not. So as a writer, I think, you must consider probability and know less is less and more is more. You have to fluff the pillows on the couch just in case it comes.

Photography is play. A million testimonies of faith. It is interaction with the world, a big fat how do you do. My favorite photographs are those that give hope. A moment, a look, a soft light sneaking through a door. It is love captured, deep wrinkles on a face, barefoot in clover and silhouettes on a sunny day. How the water crashes and watching it flow. The best I'll ever do, those times when photography becomes writing's second cousin, is when I am shown something the same time as you.

This has got to be why I do what I do.

Today I am grateful to take assessment, to tally up and find, no matter what, I don't want to stop.


Chantel said...

I printed this out, I loved it so. I may just frame it for the wall above my desk.

You do my heart good.

Shea Goff said...

You do my heart good too, Chantel. Funny how that works.

Thank you.