Why do I write?
My first poem began percolating in my head after seeing Werner Herzog’s movie “Kaspar Hauser.” Kaspar’s struggle made me aware of my own longing for deep communication and understanding. At 17, life was expanding, there was so much to take in.
Life was a thicket of emotions and experiences, opportunities and decisions that would determine the course of my life. How to make sense of it all?
Writing was a relief – thoughts captured on paper, emotions vented, hopes and fantasies caught in the dream-catcher pages of my diary.
Writing was self-therapy and brought greater clarity.
And I continue to write
…for the sheer pleasure of playing with words as nature plays with shape and color
As an amateur photographer, I use words to deepen the visual experience of my photos. When I am at a loss for the right words, I close my eyes and feel for the words in my body. Where is the experience, what is its color, temperature, motion?
Then the words usually bubble up. It’s a bit like learning a new dance – lots of missteps, tripping over my own or my partner’s feet, trying to figure it out with my head first until I realize I can just trust my body to hear the beat and move with it.
A dancer must create by moving her body through space, a sculptor by coaxing his vision from wood or stone, a painter by touching paint to canvas. For me, words are the medium for exploration, and finding truth and, sometimes, beauty.