I Write Because I Am Alone And

In Writing Practice, There's No Direction. You Enter Your Own Mind And Follow It Where It Takes You. We Have A Great Need To Connect With Our Own Mind And Our Own True Self. And All Of Us Have A Story To Tell.

Trust In What You Love, Continue To Do It, And It Will Take You Where You Need To Go. And Don't Worry Too Much About Security. You Will Eventually Have A Deep Security When You Begin To Do What You Want.

Too Often We Take Notes On Writing, We Think About Writing But Never Do It. I Want You To Walk Into The Heart Of The Storm, Written Words Dripping Off Hair, Eyelids, Hanging From Hands.

Our Bodies Are Garbage Heaps: We Collect Experience, And From The Decomposition Of The Thrown-out Eggshells, Spinach Leaves, Coffee Grinds, And Old Steak Bones Out Of Our Minds Come Nitrogen, Heat, And Very Fertile Soil. Out Of This Fertile Soil Bloom Our Poems And Stories. But This Does Not Come All At Once. It Takes Time. Continue To Turn Over And Over The Organic Details Of Your Life Until Some Of Them Fall Through The Garbage Of Discursive Thoughts To The Solid Ground Of Black Soil.

A Writer's Job Is To Give The Reader A Larger Vision Of The World.