Writing is one of my oldest friends. It has been there during all sorts of ups and downs. It is a place where I can work through my feelings, find comfort, and feel less alone. I remember when I was younger, there were all sorts of binders and notebooks filled with my endless scribbles. Some days, my hands could not seem to write fast enough. I miss that feeling. Though writing is still a beloved companion, the words don't always flow as easily as they used to. Somewhere along the line, I became hypercritical of my work, of my words, and of myself. What I wrote never seemed good enough. I started to write self-consciously. Timid. Afraid. Small. the creation of beauty is art. has become a place where I can push past that fear and write with more ease. As for my other creative pursuits, like books and short stories and poetry, that is a little more hit and miss.
