Introduction to what I write.
I got fed up with running away and started writing what I want a month ago... pretty recent huh? ^-^
So far, I write two kinds of texts:
On one hand, there's a story I've started, I always write down bits when they come to me through a mental image. Of course I have an overall idea of the story and the characters' development, but I want to leave some freedom to my creations : there are some days where a strong idea comes to mind and at this moment, it feels obvious that the bit will be good for the story, even if it's not always coherent with what I already had in mind.... So I either adjust the rest, or write the idea in a note to decide later, but if I absolutely want to keep it as it came to me, I try writing the scene before I "lose" its atmosphere : this is when the best ideas flow one after another without warning.... editing and fixing the coherence will come after :) I always revise them many times before showing them, so a lot have been done but aren't ready for viewing yet ^__~ They'll be posted with no consideration to their chronological order or whatsoever....
And there's on the other hand, things I wrote, still out of the spur of the moment, but about my own feelings or reflexions. I just feel like writing it down, get it out of me, and why not, keep it as a souvenir ) The piece I'll put below is one off them. I had "my" feeling, "my" reflexion, and I wanted to describe it. I knew how I had to start telling it all, and how I wanted to finish it, but in the middle, i had an idea of how it could fit in my story, how the main character would see it too, so the second paragraph is more viewed from her point of view... but I still wanted to end it as originally planned, so I tried to attach them all together, and this is how we have today's piece ^^
This a bit I wrote when I awoke one day and saw it rain drops splatter on my window. Usually, I revise my writings a lot before ever showing it to anyone, but this time, I just put down whatever I wanted and briefly re-read to correct small mistakes (orthography and typings). A native-English speaker forum buddy told me there were awkward parts, but didn't have the time to tell me where yet :) But I decided to put it here nonetheless, so you can see what flaws remain of my writing in English ^_^;
It's raining outside. Could I be really tired? I sense melancholy and blandness filling me up. People are said to sadden on rainy days, but I don't think the phenomenon to be true on me. I had always loved rainy days. From the light misty rain to the heavy pounder of a cloudburst, they've all rung to my ears like misfortune companions, crying alongside you, muttering out your hidden laments, and engulfing you in their strong but warm embrace. Chasing your painful thoughts out of you by their entrancing singing, growing up and buzzing stronger in your head every minute, they rock you back and forth until they leave you laying down feeling empty of unnecessary feelings, finally dull enough to sleep.
In my homeland, rain often pours violently, its wrath making some tremble with fear, others with pleasure. But always, its strength impresses deep feelings into the people, its beauty, one day exalted the other graceful, enchant any artist's eyes and ears. However here, in the grand city of light, only drizzles come down on us, inspiring nothing but a slight annoyance at this meek manifestation of Nature. No beauty, no power oozes from it, and it can only rise boredom inside people's hearts.
This may well be why I feel sad today : this curse of boredom is gaining territory inside of me. I should leave this town soon, lingering any longer could devour me further, little by little it is true, but the changes are undoubtedly real. Watching the drips knocking scarce on my window, I feel like going out, raising my hands high to meet this natural flow and close my eyes upon reaching it, delighting in its presence.
But what's dripping outside isn't the engulfing flow of the downpour I've grown up alongside with, but this meek, weak and colorless drizzle. I'm looking at it with the yearning of someone about to reunite with an old lover, while I know what's waiting outside is not this old friend in which I've so often found comfort, and this, is perhaps what grieves me so today : beyond this glass outside, is no more than the shadow of an old companion.
I got fed up with running away and started writing what I want a month ago... pretty recent huh? ^-^
So far, I write two kinds of texts:
On one hand, there's a story I've started, I always write down bits when they come to me through a mental image. Of course I have an overall idea of the story and the characters' development, but I want to leave some freedom to my creations : there are some days where a strong idea comes to mind and at this moment, it feels obvious that the bit will be good for the story, even if it's not always coherent with what I already had in mind.... So I either adjust the rest, or write the idea in a note to decide later, but if I absolutely want to keep it as it came to me, I try writing the scene before I "lose" its atmosphere : this is when the best ideas flow one after another without warning.... editing and fixing the coherence will come after :) I always revise them many times before showing them, so a lot have been done but aren't ready for viewing yet ^__~ They'll be posted with no consideration to their chronological order or whatsoever....
And there's on the other hand, things I wrote, still out of the spur of the moment, but about my own feelings or reflexions. I just feel like writing it down, get it out of me, and why not, keep it as a souvenir ) The piece I'll put below is one off them. I had "my" feeling, "my" reflexion, and I wanted to describe it. I knew how I had to start telling it all, and how I wanted to finish it, but in the middle, i had an idea of how it could fit in my story, how the main character would see it too, so the second paragraph is more viewed from her point of view... but I still wanted to end it as originally planned, so I tried to attach them all together, and this is how we have today's piece ^^
******* * About Rain * *********
This a bit I wrote when I awoke one day and saw it rain drops splatter on my window. Usually, I revise my writings a lot before ever showing it to anyone, but this time, I just put down whatever I wanted and briefly re-read to correct small mistakes (orthography and typings). A native-English speaker forum buddy told me there were awkward parts, but didn't have the time to tell me where yet :) But I decided to put it here nonetheless, so you can see what flaws remain of my writing in English ^_^;
It's raining outside. Could I be really tired? I sense melancholy and blandness filling me up. People are said to sadden on rainy days, but I don't think the phenomenon to be true on me. I had always loved rainy days. From the light misty rain to the heavy pounder of a cloudburst, they've all rung to my ears like misfortune companions, crying alongside you, muttering out your hidden laments, and engulfing you in their strong but warm embrace. Chasing your painful thoughts out of you by their entrancing singing, growing up and buzzing stronger in your head every minute, they rock you back and forth until they leave you laying down feeling empty of unnecessary feelings, finally dull enough to sleep.
In my homeland, rain often pours violently, its wrath making some tremble with fear, others with pleasure. But always, its strength impresses deep feelings into the people, its beauty, one day exalted the other graceful, enchant any artist's eyes and ears. However here, in the grand city of light, only drizzles come down on us, inspiring nothing but a slight annoyance at this meek manifestation of Nature. No beauty, no power oozes from it, and it can only rise boredom inside people's hearts.
This may well be why I feel sad today : this curse of boredom is gaining territory inside of me. I should leave this town soon, lingering any longer could devour me further, little by little it is true, but the changes are undoubtedly real. Watching the drips knocking scarce on my window, I feel like going out, raising my hands high to meet this natural flow and close my eyes upon reaching it, delighting in its presence.
But what's dripping outside isn't the engulfing flow of the downpour I've grown up alongside with, but this meek, weak and colorless drizzle. I'm looking at it with the yearning of someone about to reunite with an old lover, while I know what's waiting outside is not this old friend in which I've so often found comfort, and this, is perhaps what grieves me so today : beyond this glass outside, is no more than the shadow of an old companion.
1 commentaire:
Joli blog!!!
J'aime vraiment ce post
Si vous voulez voir mon art:
www.misesbozos.blogspot.com
Merci Beaucoup!!!
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