Pat I failed Art at school. You must know that NOBODY…simply NOBODY fails Art – its impossible to fail because Art is your personal interpretation of whatever it is you are looking at – but I did. So when you said that I am a “word painter” you do not have any idea what happiness it gave to an old soul here in Adelaide while I try to keep my feet warm as a winter day comes in summer. My feet has to be warm to enable me to think clearly. And when I write, I need to think. So the heater is blowing at my stocking feet.
A “word-painter”! Now my mind starts to meander. Should I write a short story for money? CAN I write good enough to interest people to read even if my life was to depend on it? But then Pat said I was a “word-painter” so I am sure I can write.
So I sit down and write a story. For money !!. Against all odds I sell it to the papers and they print it the week after. It’s good. The public loves it. They want more. I write more. Then an offer from Longman Australia to do a compilation of my writing. For money !! With bated breath I sit down - demand silence from everybody in the house – and write. Revised all that I have written to date and once satisfied, send it to Longman for publication. A success again. I now have to attend interviews, make appearance at bookstore, meet with people who wants to know me…my days are filled with appointments and meetings with people I do not know and I do not care to know. I have to go to Sydney, Melbourne, Perth to promote my book. Next week it is New Zealand and then God knows where.
I am not enjoying this because this is not what I want to do – but the money on offer is hideously too much. So I do what I have to do. I write. I write to meet deadlines and promises I made for another compilation of my writings – writings that I do not have and now have to do - writing under duress and pressure to meet deadlines.
I do not have time to talk to my wife, take her to do the groceries and sit with her in the garden while the cats play. I do not see my son as often as I want to and hardly talk to anyone in the family anymore. I have no time to do Facebook with my daughter in KL. I do not have time to go to your English Cottage site. What is happening to my world of solitude and family and who can I blame but you Pat. You called me a “word-painter”. You are responsible for making me fabulously rich from my writings and yet destroy my quite life of solitude and family forever. Have I not have the right to be angry with you - you who called me a word-painter and made it possible for me to have unimaginable wealth?
P.s….tha’s how vivid my imagination can be once I allow it free rein to go where ever it chooses – and when I saw “word-painter” my whole being flew out of the window and started to engage into overdrive…so be careful with choosing your words with me…you can destroy my life !!! Now you know for sure that I am MAD.
Pssst...is'nt it nice to just write nonsensical nonsense once in a while?
Steadyaku47 aka HH.