Oct 12, 2010

writing my way through the forest





For me, words have always been my way of working things through, finding my way, getting from one place to another.

Each vowel and consonant has its place on the map of my heart, marking fear and sadness, joy and passion, boredom and ennui. All the angst that life mixes in sometimes, just for the fun of it. The day to day moments that make up more of our lives than all the milestones combined.

It's all there, on paper, in words.

It's all there, in my heart, in whispers.

All this history, written down in notebooks and on tiny scraps of paper and neatly typed pages of poetry, locked away in a cupboard. Phrases and letters and logic and emotion.

The testimony of my life.

The act of writing out those thoughts and words and feelings has mattered as much, if not more, than the souvenirs left behind in that cupboard. A narration that acts as background music to a life that moves forward no matter what. You don't have to listen, always, to know it's there, but you miss it, when it's not.

It comforts you. Grounds you, like the roots of a tree.

Writing in a journal is like having a conversation with yourself. You talk out your problems, your worries, your inane fears. You laugh at your own jokes and smile in all the right places. You may even nod, occasionally, at something you just said.

Words may surface that you didn't even know were in your vocabulary. Feelings that you never knew you had. Solutions to problems you weren't even thinking about.

There have been times in my life when I stopped journaling, stopped writing, stopped listening to my heart and left it there, alone, talking to the walls. But I always found my way back to it, returned to record the words that inevitably bubbled to the surface.

I suppose we all have something like that, that one thing we always come back to, that thing that we can’t not do. Perhaps it's painting or sculpting or cooking or knitting. The place where we feel most at home. For me it has always been writing. I never thought of myself as a writer in any professional sense, but I’ve always known that I needed to write.

My home is a forest where each tree is a sentence, each branch a word, each leaf a letter.

I walk beneath these trees. I listen. I record.

Sometimes I find just the right sentence, sprouting up right before me.

Or, I trip over a phrase that has grown like a root across my path.

Other times, I can't see the forest through the trees.

But always, I live there.

So tell me, where do you feel most at home?

15 comments:

dbalyoz said...

what a beautiful post kelly...i know exactly what you mean...the act of writing produces words, phrases, sentences with their own special magic. where do I feel at home? behind the camera! and slowly I am rediscovering that it is also in the writing of words!! :)

dbalyoz said...

what a beautiful post kelly...i know exactly what you mean...the act of writing produces words, phrases, sentences with their own special magic. where do I feel at home? behind the camera! and slowly I am rediscovering that it is also in the writing of words!! :)

Dyche Designs said...

Such a magical post Kelly . . . over the years I've found comfort in writing too although there are times when I write like crazy and other times when my journals sit gathering dust. I've often been told I'm able to convey more in writing than through talking, recently I've felt the pull back to my journals to and commit pen to paper again.

ELK said...

kelly . i really think this is beautiful . i find this to be true for me in a flower garden..

Kim Klassen said...

oh Kelly, once again you have moved me...
I feel most at home when I am creating... that can be with my camera or in the studio with paints and ink and mess....

thank you for this my friend.....

and wow, what a beautiful photo...
'sigh'

xxo, kim

smith kaich jones said...

tripping over phrases . . . :) You are the best. The best.

Writing saves me, but painting surprises me. That is where I trip and stumble and find myself eye to eye with an unseen piece of magic. And wonder how it got there.

This is wonderful. As always.

xoxo
Debi

Prairie Girl Studio said...

mmmm ... right now i am feeling most at home just reading and hanging on each of your wonderfully woven words ... a remarkable gift, dear kelly ... *hug*

being outside is where i feel most alive ...
digging in the dirt ...
snooping out something old from a shed
to place as art in the garden ...
building paths ...
walking through the woods ...
with mother nature's symphony accompanying me : )

xoxo
prairiegirl

Marcie said...

There are times when your words resonate so deeply with me...as if we are so much and often in the same place.
I journal - as if my heart and soul and life depends on it. And.. sometimes - it does.
Thank-you..for such beautiful expression.

Jillsy said...

to me, it is in creating...whatever it may be. using my artistic abilities.

great post!

Carola Bartz said...

Kelly, this is so beautiful. I've written in my journal for many many years, and it became less when I had my daughter. No time, I guess (what a cheap excuse). I'm back to writing, but where I feel the most at home is with my camera. From pure recording memories it has become a voice - it's a very interesting development and I only realized that change recently.

Jamie said...

Kelly - an AMAZING post! I used to say I hated writing, but when I started blogging I discovered just how much I love it. I find myself discovering myself as I write, what a beautiful gift.

Anika said...

Very pretty post...

"My home is a forest where each tree is a sentence, each branch a word, each leaf a letter." I love that.

Gretchen said...

Inspirational post for sure...
I am most at home wherever I'm creating my jewelry, be it on the couch in our home, in my studio or up north at our cabin or while on vacation by the beach.
When I combine nature with my designing of jewelry is when I feel most content.
Currently, only through my blogging is my writing put into practice. Would like to do more, but life gets in the way.
Thanks for sharing and your very inspirational post.
Gretchen

jo miller said...

Love the title,love the photo,love the words.
You inspire ~ You soothe ~ You create hope with your writing.
Thanks!

Anonymous said...

Your heart sounds like an amazing place. Thank you for touching mine.