[ID: Why one writes is a question I can answer easily, having so often asked it of myself. I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live. I could not live in any of the worlds offered to me - the world of my parents, the world of war, the world of politics. I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself when destroyed by living. That, I believe, is the reason for every of art.
Elektra: Tell it anyway. / Little words can mean / death or life sometimes.
Proof that you lived is that you kept notebooks.
writing as therapy. writing as healing. writing as discovery. writing as self-love. writing as making sense of the dark. writing as rebirth.
Louise Erdrich / I approach the work as though, in truth, I’m nothing and the words are everything. Then I write to save my life. If you are a writer, that will be true. Writing has saved my life.
Paul Gauguin, the painter, began his intimate journal with the phrase, “This is not a book.” He repeated the line frequently throughout the journal to remind himself that writing a diary is not like writing a book or any other form of literature. Gauguin wanted to write his diary as he painted his pictures, dabbing a few experimental colors at first, adding more as his intuition told him, following his fancy, “following the moon,” discovering the pattern from what had occurred by chance.
Write with no strings attached. Sometimes writing a single line is enough to save your own heart.
If writing did not exist, what terrible depressions we should suffer from.
‘Write something every day,’ she said, ‘even if it’s only a line, it will protect you.’
A useful daily practice is to sit (or walk) with a notebook and focus on what’s happening right now, in minute detail. “Inside a moment,” Emily Dickinson wrote, “centuries of June.” End ID]
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