Why write

Why do we write?
its a curious question that only few can really answer.
One thing that I am not even sure i am capable of.  However, I have found myself contemplating this again and again throughout my life so far.

rant begin:
sometimes its hard to express what we are thinking, sometimes we have people in our lives that we just want to tell how much we love and cherish them and their friendship, love and compassion, but we don't know how.
sometimes we see something and are unable to say just the thing that displays the intense beauty that we find within it.
there are so many things that are confusing and wondrous and understated and there has to be an outlet to express them.
this may be why we, that write, do. It's something to explain to others how they feel at certain moments, moments that cant seem to capture in a way themselves. it captures that instant and brings it to life once again. something that is a memory or a present feeling that cant be simplified in a few words.
then why is it so hard to convince others that this is what we are meant for. the simple few who write because they know nothing else. The few that can only understand in words what they see, can only bring to life in long standing promises the things that we feel or see around us. It is this that draws writers forward. The urgent need to share these stories with others, to wrap our words around that instant and express it fully is

Songwriters write about lost loves, hearts breaking, happiness and solace. Often bringing us to tears, or pure unrequited bliss. poets make us look into ourselves and show us what is happening within a story, our story, their story. Journalists bring to life a story of someone or something that is a moment in time, novelists capture long standing events in time, real or not that allow us to imagine the impossible. Until that moment, when we see it put into print. They create magic. That is the moment that captures the innermost desires of our hearts, bringing us to a completely different place, a euphoric state that we somehow could not reach on our own.


The dogs made me do it. I promise.

Love, the northern acorn.