“Writing: often it is the only thing between you and impossibility.”


I give up on essay I made decision to write, after reading this poem, it’s inspiring
Thanks to
http://melkouba.wordpress.com/2014/04/28/point-of-view/

while we  were taking a walk  to the park, a friend and me,  he made a brief halt and said to  me, “Your point of view…” about –Changing Moccasins — I told him, it’s like Like Changing  saddles, and the most delicate moment is, that you find a relief, and a temporary comfort when you swish sides you are seating on, after hours of ride on a rocky road.

he said, “but, tell me more”

I said to him, ” all I ask from you is your attention, and to be patient with me, that’s all”

The Difference Point of View Makes

“You asked me to lend you my imagination.

Let me let you know first, my dear friend, before you ride on, that she is always at a gallop; she is still half-tamed.”

“It took me too long to get along with her and an arm. Before anything else, I had to seduce her, to cajole her dreams. We have been too often to reconcile with each other; she was always in departure, when I was just arriving.

But I arrived, with time, to capture her want; to deal with one of hers a such fancy caprice of the moment, and to pardon her also for being whimsical. Because, she was, and always in a stirring conversation with my muse, while I had to concentrate on my writing, so I am used to it now, and just let her do her busy chit-chat, while I doodled on a blank page.

You see, one day, on a trip,  I saw a yogi, sitting there under a tree, and  in a profound contemplation; he had a monkey too, who was busy going up and down, from the shoulder of the yogi to the ground, back and forth, while him, the yogi  he was sitting, imperturbable, in plain meditation. The other day, when passing by, I found the monkey leashed to a post, and doing the same manège, whilst the yogi was sitting aside,  with his tranquil thoughts. I waited patiently nearby, until he drew back from his profound lethargy. Then, when I asked him humbly why he leashed his pet, out of knowledge he told me, confessing that as he considered his companion’s  own state of mind with respect and while he realized that his mind was also busy observing the monkey, so he attached the monkey to a post and left his mind occupied by the monkey doing, and went back to his meditation.

From then, I had a good lesson.

I am an autodidact writer, and enough an artist to draw upon my imagination, when unleashed, You see, you can go nowhere too far with her, maybe she can take you for a ride just down the street, but then she dis-saddled you right away when she became aware that you’re taking here somewhere too far, and don’t let you go with it; because she is my imagination.

Then, he said: ” it’s a lie”

I said: “the truth is, it depends of the point of view in which side where you stand”

I told him: ” you don’t have to believe me, but I asked you just to listen to me, remember?”

I am enough an artist to draw up on my imagination. Imagination is more important then knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world.
_Albert Einstein

And, again  I added;

“Give me a  fulcrum , and I will lift off the world”_Albert Einstein

you see, the Romain Cato made the point with characteristic brevity:

“Seize the thing, the words will follow”

“Writing: often it is the only thing between you and impossibility.”

“The Truth, is this; pointing to the sundae ice cream, it depends for from where you stand…Rhetoric, semantics, bla, bla bla, and the end, it’s all talk ”

After that we closed the chapter…we sat on a bench at  the park and savored silently, a sundae ice cream

The Daily Post

Writing
often it is the only
thing
between you and
impossibility.
no drink,
no woman’s love,
no wealth
can
match it.
nothing can save
you
except
writing.
it keeps the walls
from
failing.
the hordes from
closing in.
it blasts the
darkness.
writing is the
ultimate
psychiatrist,
the kindliest
god of all the
gods.
writing stalks
death.
it knows no
quit.
and writing
laughs
at itself,
at pain.
it is the last
expectation,
the last
explanation.
that’s
what it
is.

Charles Bukowski, “Writing.”

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Kalimelo

I am an autodidact writer, and enough of an artist, to draw upon my imagination_I can't pretend here, to imitate Einstein's expression, nor to profess having enough knowledge of that sort, credit is, where credits due, noblety obliged, nor to build equations, or lost gravity, still having this audacity to emitate Mr. Einstein one's expression is a crime of Lese-majeste, and to not for being an imbued person, first, pardon my intrusive Introduction, but isn't it an imitating someone, the same like of gardening and planting coliflowers? Maybe Orchids... Secondo, I just have borrowed his quote _"knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world ", for the pumps and circumstance, and just for the sake blogging, put it that way down to paper, and to fancy make an old dream of mine comes true, perhaps one day, and if time permitting, a would-be a writer and having enough ingredients for writing prose and possibly poetry _Thankful always to my reader for stopping by, and To all the followers: Thank you for following my blog, regularly, and by your likes on my posts, you're encouraging me each time, to persist and strive to do better for blogging than the sensational, and to take the risk to be boring sometimes ; please send me your feeds Thanks you again extra large for your patience _Modestly speaking: _Inspirational Dr. Seuss's quote: _“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And You are the one who’ll decide where to go.” ― Dr. Seuss

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