Sweet is not exactly a word that describes me, but my husband set up my blog, and that is what he named it. Seeing that he is my biggest fan, how could I change it?




Sunday, April 21, 2013

Clara


I was reading my daughter Gwynn's blog tonight, and was so amazed by her ability to put down her thoughts that I wanted to share them with you.  She and her best friend Emily have a blog called DREAMING OF VERONA  at http://secretsandshakespeare.tumblr.com/   They write about their dreams, joys, and heartaches.  I think it is wonderful.


Words on paper.

Writing. There is nothing quite like it. In my personal opinion, it is the best way to express oneself. Or at least myself. Sometimes when I’m thinking or daydreaming, I imagine my thoughts as words on a piece of paper. I am constantly writing poems in my head… Or at least a few lines of them. I will be walking down the sidewalk and see a bird in the distance or a flower peeking though the pavement and I will begin to write a story or a poem about what I think it means or how I think it’s feeling. All in my head. Some may consider it a strange thing to do, but I love it. I just think it’s a lovely way for my thoughts to be consumed.
I sometimes find myself struggling with expressing my thoughts and feelings with verbal words alone, so I just like to write them all down or imagine I’m writing them all down in my head. Because to me… Expressing my words through writing instead of verbally is not only easier, but is as pure and innocent as can be. Writing is also a tremendous escape I use when I’m upset or scared or heartbroken or just coping with a tough situation. If I need to get something off my chest or I need to vent about something, but I don’t want to trouble others with my problems, writing it down on a piece of paper is what I’ve found to be most effective. It’s sort of like having a conversation… But with your own heart and mind. There have been many times when I have just been so devastated from facing different sorts of troubles in my life where all I want to do is just run up to my room, lock my door, rip open my journal, and just write about it. Writing. There is just nothing quite like it. With love, Gwynn

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