The writting
Writing is the eternal authors’ challenge. It’s to dream and stare at a white paper without traces and designs to seek answers for the evils. The challenge is trying to find an idea where there is only a paper… a white paper.
So, the writer walks down their memory lane as if they were wandering on a kind of infinite roadway. Then he travels back in time to revisit his childhood, youth memories, and small steps to review old images in every inch of his brain. In short, he tries to decode signs surrounded by stone and glass chains of the imagination in a place where he is capable of making magic. In general, he searches for lost moments that he has experienced.
If some inspiration emerges from the nought, eventually something appears to light up his thoughts. This unknown and anxious ghost lives in his soul. Or this ghost is only an epiphany that scatters fragments on the skin as a flash of lightning carried on a storm to fulfil the white paper as a gift sent from heaven.
Immediately, he produces rain and bolts from the tears of his wet eyes, immersed in a strange perfume. He provokes winds, brightness, and the awaited words appear.
Quietly, a character dresses in Harlequin clothes and sits on a windowsill as if he has been riding an imaginary horse. In fact, authors realize that their hands dominate the uncontrolled process of the art of writing. The Harlequin begins to tell him a funny or a dramatic story. Then, the clown notices his curious look. The author’s eyes open, and it seems like he is controlling the story, however, only Harlequin knows the truth.
After this brainstorm, the winds of the storm disappear, and Harlequin goes away. The imaginary window and the horse as well. The author observes the words on the paper. He enjoys reading those pages a dozen times, and he doesn’t believe that all things were hidden inside his brain, and he hasn’t understood them.
Photo from: Foto de Aaron Burden en Unsplash
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