Monday, June 11, 2012

To Those Who Have Read

There are certain moments I wish I was a better writer.. or at least, one who could write pages worth of words. Unfortunately, I find beauty in the simplicity of a simple poem, ones that I rarely even show my closest friends. I am not more proud or feel more accomplished with the ones I post here, but I merely have the time and means to press "publish". Maybe because I don't feel the need to defend the ones posted here. I have no expectation for you, the reader, to feel anything after reading my words. In the end, these ruminations, oftentimes associating themselves in rhythm or rhyme, have absolutely nothing to offer to the world. I am satisfied in knowing this. I expect nothing to come from my ridiculous attempt to write what you might hope to be beautiful works. If you enjoy generally peaceful, regularly erratic, uneducated words, then my hope is that you feel as if you're not wasting your time. In the end, I hope I can look back on Meticulous Markings, and can somehow strewn together a path that signifies the course through my life. Positive pieces and negative nothings. I hope you get something out of it, too.

Question of the blog:
Do you write? Do you enjoy your pieces? What inspires your favorite way to express yourself in art for?

2 comments:

Moorea Seal said...

i absolutely adore your writing alexandra. i often read your beautiful poems and think, gosh, I wish I had it in me to write like this. the last time I wrote a poem was many years ago. your words and style are inspiring sister. and I hope I can have time to ruminate and write like this in the near future <3
xo moorea

Andreas said...

It is not true that your writing has nothing to offer the world. Let me, for instance, tell you how affected I was by the piece called "Fervor". I found it both beautiful and haunting, and vividly rendered.

I write poems because, like you, "I find beauty in the simplicity of a simple poem". On occasion I create something that takes me by surprise, and that is a wonderful feeling. Don't you feel that way sometimes about your own words, or your own thoughts, saying to yourself: "Huh, I wonder where that came from"?