On November 6, 2005, I began blogging with a post titled, Why I Paint Horses. That was the obvious way to start a blog about painting horses, which I have been doing for over thirty years. That article was easy to write. I had been thinking about that mysterious thing called “A Love of Horses” for a long time.
I had also been thinking about that equally mysterious thing called “Artistic Talent” and the way those two things were wed in my personality, character, in my very being.
But I’ve been writing almost as long. My first ‘full length’ story was written when I was in the eighth grade. Yes, there have been some long dry spells during all those years, but the seed of literary creativity has always been there, waiting for the rains of opportunity and motivation.
Yet, I’ve never really stopped to think about why I write in the same way I’ve thought about why I paint horses. Until recently.
I mentioned back in June that I’d found an online writer’s group. When I joined, I was hoping to find encouragement, praise and honest criticisms on my writing. Something to validate my desire to tell stories through the written word. I have found all that and more.
A recent discussion on becoming a better writer was the result of a recent blog post titled 73 Ways to Become a Better Write by Mary Jaksch on Copyblogger.
One of those 73 things was tell everyone you’re a writer. That seems to have hit a hot button with a lot of us. Many of us prefer to let our writing speak for itself. Some mentioned the blank looks people gave them when they said they were writers. I personally am embarrassed to tell people I write. It’s almost as though I think that they will think my real life must not be very exciting if I have to make up lives for made up people.
Yeah, I know. I need to get over that.
That discussion and one or two additional discussions since have caused me to begin thinking about why I write, though. It also sent me back to that original post on painting horses.
In that post, I wrote the following:
…when I see horses running free across an open pasture, something stirs down inside that can’t be explained. It doesn’t need to be.And when I see horses competing against each other on the track, that same intangible emotion is there. That ‘thing’ that makes my throat tighten up and tears come to my eyes.
And I think, “I’ve got to try to capture that look and that spirit” and it’s off to the studio. No explanation needed. No explanation wanted.
As I consider the things that prompt me to write, I see the same intangible response to the world around me and a desire to share it with others. In this case, my palette is a Mac G4 or an old Compaq, my paints are fonts and the paintings are novels.
And I don’t find this at all strange. The desire to create was placed in us by God above. So was the desire to share. The desire to share through creativity is as natural to me as breathing.
I have to breathe.
I have to paint.
I have to write.
Praise the Lord from whom ALL blessings flow.
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