On a whim…

A few years ago, in a writer’s workshop, the facilitator described my work as, whimsical. Does this mean my work is capricious or that it expresses ‘odd notions’? You be the judge. I can say that very few of my compositions are the result of fleshing out a carefully reasoned thesis.

My nemesis, in high school, was the outline. Somehow I never could outline and then write. Ask me to express something in writing and I will start writing. Eventually something, chaotic, incoherent, irrational, and (in most cases) whimsical will emerge.

It is out of this that the muse speaks to me. Some spark, not of my own, will ignite a word or phrase, a candle to my own moth like compulsion.

Occasionally I will compose something for you (me?) to consider and record it here. Once I aspired to write for a living. It was a short lived aspiration. I found that I abhorred what I wrote. It was pedantic. My lust for unexpected expressions and fresh phrases could hardly be satisfied by the pedestrian quality of my writing. So, I fired myself and moved on.

Still, I love to write. To my joy, and your probable dismay, I love to borrow words and combine them. I promise nothing other than to make an occasional offering. Maybe you will react and even go so far as to encourage me? Who can say?