words are the music notes on my composition sheet

Have I figured out yet what I want out of life? It is easy to ask questions, but finding the answers is a little harder. Can I tell you what I don't want? "Whatever left, however improbable, must be the truth." But that applies only to eliminating the impossible things.

It is impossible to imagine a life where I don't write, or don't feel the constant itch under my skin to write. It is impossible to imagine a life where I don't crave reading, where I don't admire a gorgeous turn of phrase. Writers are people for whom writing is more difficult than normal people, maybe because we care too much what we sound like. Maybe it could be easier, but I don't think it could ever be a chore when it is a labor of love.

I can't live my life without thinking, "Oh, I could write that. I could write it this way." My mind describes scenes without my conscious realization; I search for the right words, the right emotions, that could play out in the scene that is my life. I think about how one scene might lead to another, cause and effect, how I might format everything for the most emotional impact. Is that normal? I can't imagine not living like that, like every day is something that can be turned into art.

You'd think I would be able to write better blog entries if that were the case. I should put these descriptive urges to use, practice with a summation of What I Did Today. I have always been inclined towards slice-of-life vignettes, in any case. But for all that I see my life through the writer's equivalent of a camera lens (I wonder if this is how photographers feel, I wonder if it is something they can ever set aside, or if they even want to), it can be a struggle to show that viewfinder, that perspective, to someone else. Writing is an intensely personal experience for me, because it involves not only the emotions I want to convey through words, but also the emotions I feel as I write. For someone who isn't me - can they ever truly experience what I do? See what I do?

I should practice more though, shouldn't I? If it's a hardship, a struggle, then I should only work harder to overcome it.

How many ways can you say that the world is painted in red-and-gold leaves, vibrant against the wet gray sky and ground? How many ways can you say, "This world makes me feel," when you look out the window at the sky, and the trees, at the cars and people and rain and world?

Some feelings you just can't put words to, it's true. But there are so many things you can, if you try. If you find the right words, the right analogy, the right phrasing.

I wonder if music is like this to some people.