I write to explain, tell, inspire, confess, and sometimes just talk. Maybe we all do.
The celebrities and wannabes post their pictures across the social spectrum to be admired and/or envied for their physical image, the places they visit, and the food that they eat. They are ‘influencers’ who want to be envied and emulated by their peers.
Writers spread themselves on the web also. Unlike the selfie-takers, we often open our inner thoughts, our dreams, our flaws, and scars for inspection. We write to understand and hope that others understand the ‘human condition’. We share and bond in the reality of who we are. There is healing in sharing.
We write pieces of ourselves. Giving perspective and emotion to trauma and illness. We celebrate our good days and uncover things that help us move forward.
We don’t try to gloss over or filter the image to make us look like it’s all perfect.
We are who we are — and we are beautiful despite our pain and disorders. Our art is in communicating the micro and macro views of our turbulent, sweeping, adventurous lives.
Art can be refined or raucous. Each of us chooses where we want to be on the scale and how we tell about our humanity.
Obviously, not all writers are like this. Some are technical and educate us about hard facts. Some tell stories far from their feelings.
But words will evoke feelings and that is art.