Seeing as today is my birthday, I figured I'd start this whole write every day for a year thing. Nice, right?! It's actually perfect because readers of this writing will most likely be few and far between, so I'm going to try to keep this as pure as possible. I'm talking "Sugar In-the-raw" pure. Basically, if I think it, it gets written down (or typed up in this case).
Shoutout Hank Moody for making me want to get drunk and write, but as I sit here with a serious lack of whiskey in hand, it makes me think about what writing means to me. Initially, I wanted to be a writer because I had been doing it my whole life and figured cranking out a few fresh social posts or a bushel of headlines would be a walk in the park. But as time went on I started to see why writers REALLY write. Writing is a view of who that person is inside. From the guy who purposefully sat alone at lunch, to the girl who just seemed not to care about appearances, every person has a perspective on the world unlike any other in existence, and often times, you'd never expect the stories they have to tell.
I love that. I love what people have to say. I love how special our eyes are. I love that the color blue is not the same for you. You get where I'm going with this?
If you asked an impressionist whether that be an actor, painter, musician, or any other creator of that sort how easy it is to nail down someone else's persona, they would tell you it's almost impossible. What a challenge. But think about how easy it was for that person to create their style. It was natural, and the unnatural is like a Rubix cube with a million sides. That's what I live for. The challenge of learning and doing, failing and starting over again. So here's to me continuing to develop my voice, and hopefully with time, much like a fine red wine, my own vintage will gain value and find recognition.
For now, I'll just chug my coffee and get back to whatever the hell I should be doing. Cheers to 25 more beer... years, sorry. My head was in the wrong place for 1 pm on a Thursday.