“In art, the hand can never execute anything higher than the heart can imagine.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’m excited to tell you that I am working on a new book. This one’s going to be about my journey as a writer and blogger, about my struggles and all that. I am going to write it, get it published, and give it for free for you folks to read and maybe, who knows, get inspired or motivated.
But what I’d like to ask you is this: what are certain topics you’d like to read about? Also, if you have any questions about the artistic process. I’m thinking of doing a Q&A at the end of the book.
Now, it’s time for some excerpts:
“For a long time I lost my purpose. I had no drive, no passion. I was becoming a walking dead; one of those folks who aimlessly go through life, not yet buried, but certainly dead…inside. It even made me question that I ever had a true purpose. If I even had the will-power and inner strength to want something bad enough to just go after it and do whatever it took to get it… until I found it again.”
“You just type the damn words. Do, don’t think. You feel the story, you follow it where it leads you.
It’s not magic, but what is? Where can you find it?
Magic is simply a mixture of fear, bewilderment, and misunderstanding, which create a sort of profound admiration.
A beautiful sentence, to those who read it, is magic.
Beautiful is a lazy word, won’t you agree?
Sometimes “love” is lazy too. It depends on how you pronounce it, how often, and to whom.
Simply put, magic or beauty or art is not in the hands of the magician or the artist, but in the hearts of those who experience it.”
“I wrote a short story. It was about this guy taking a shower. I kid you not. He’s taking a shower and he’s got this perfect life, but he’s still dissatisfied. And he keeps wondering why. That was it. Half of page of a sort of existential crisis.
And being the geek chic type (without being chic at all) I posted it on an Internet forum. They had an arts section.
I got lots of hate. Some guy said I was either retarded or fourteen years old. Though I didn’t admit it at the time, I was both.
But isn’t that the one requirement to accomplish anything worthwhile in life? You’re either brave enough to do it or so stupid that you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into?”
“Purpose. Find something that resonates with you. A passion, a hobby, a job, something. Feel those strong emotions. Listen to your heart. Follow the path even if it leads you through hell. Keep going. Keep doing it. No matter what.
That purpose is your fuel. It gives you direction, hope, meaning, and most of all, makes you feel free. It sets you apart. It makes you like yourself so much more.
Doing what you love is the best therapy in the world.”
“Not yet, I’d tell myself.
Don’t we all waste most of our lives like this? Wishing for some day, hoping for a better tomorrow, lying to ourselves that we’ll get it done.
There are many sad words in the English language, but “someday” and “if only” are the saddest. Put them together in the same sentence, it’s a recipe for disaster.
If only I could have this, then someday I’ll be able to do this.
The one lesson life keeps teaching us and few are ever willing to learn is that there is no someday. There are no ifs, no buts. It’s just now. It is what it is. What you have right now is all you ever had. What you are right now, it’s all that you will ever be.
Now or never.
Take the chance or risk losing it for ever.”
P.S. Dream City, my compilation of short stories, is available as a free download on Amazon.
If you want to download it, you can do so here: