Friday, May 28, 2010
I journal nearly every morning. More often than not this means I write of present moment observation of how I feel, what I see, hear or smell. And then there are the memories, the emotions—words that need an audience. Highly charged emotions need to be expressed in a way that involves only a select group of listeners, and most often this means the person emoting and a trusted listener. We need communication like life support—an audience for such words. Keeping a personal journal is an almost perfect recorder for the writer to share a head full of victory or loss, a heart full of joy or sadness. I am writing a book that is a compilation of prose poems journaled during a four year period of my life that was packed with tons of strife, miles of joy and eons of learning through discovery of a better way to live. The written observation of day to day creates a thread of varied color woven into significant memory. There are times when I see only spills of letters falling from thought onto my hand, slipping through my fingers onto the journal page. But, even then, something beautiful happens if I just keep writing one word after another. It, beauty, happens when ink of the black pen is set aside and the inks of colored pens dance across the textured page. Each color each letter each word is put on top of words already written. This, then, is the process of WordLayers. It begins in chaos, continues towards balance and completes itself in a vertical read of variation of color as each day touches the one before and the one after. WordLayers has become the stitching that holds the days of joy and those of sorrow together—in a balanced view of the journey of my soul.