On Every Writer's Dream
My dear friend,
Do you know what every writer’s dream is?
Is it winning the Pulitzer Prize?
Nope.
Is it hanging with Oprah?
Nope.
Is it?…
Nope.
Maybe?…
Nope nope nope.
Every writer’s dream, is that, once we die, our journals are found by some random person and suddenly the person is absolutely, overwhelmingly overtaken with the beauty being revealed to their eyeballs, to the point that they’re shaking and crying from the rapture created by our words.
The person who finds these journals dedicates the rest of their life trying to get them published.
They get published and become and instant best-seller in every single language around the world.
The whole earth agrees with something: This writer was a genius.
So, yeah, even after we die, we win!
And… well,
By reading my journals I’ve come to the conclusion that, if someone finds them after my death, they will actually think that I was a very whiny person, obsessed with myself and with men. So they will probably burn them or something.
But there are some interesting things in there! I swear! You just have to skip the majority of the pages.
Really. More than anything, what I see is… an innocent li’l human! Ani of the past. Trying to understand life, which is impossible, but a very endearing activity, when you think about it.
When I teach creative writing, I tell my students a very important thing: “writing, and any kind of art, comes from self-love and self-respect. Because you’re taking your thoughts so seriously, that you’re willing to write them down”.
I also tell them: “Art, is loving our Fellow Humans! Because we’re taking our trials, our tribulations, the lessons we’ve learned, the ideas we’ve had, and we’re sharing them with others. Sometimes we’re putting words to something that someone hasn’t found the words for. And when we see ourselves reflected on a page, or a piece of art, we feel less alone. We feel understood. Art is a way to love in all directions!”.
I think, so far I’ve done the self-love part.
Now I’m trying to love you, my dear friend.
By sharing with You ❤
These are,
My Secret Files.
Happy birth day to this. Already hooked.
This made me laugh out loud: "The whole earth agrees with something: This writer was a genius." 😂 I've kept a journal since I was a teen, though these days I only journal sporadically. Much of my journal writing was whiny, too! But I believe the writing helped me process difficult emotions and better understand myself and others. In 2017 I read through every one of my old journals—I had 72 at the time, but I only made it through 63 of them. I took photos of the covers, saved those few "interesting things in there", and tore up the rest. Long story. Now those torn journal pieces are going to be part of an installation in an art show I have coming up. There may have been a lot of whining, but those journals have been a very important part of my life.