I'm starting to be more of a regular contributor to some writing venues out there, one being the clean beauty that is Lolita Magazine.
I never really know what I'm going to write about though.
I have a word on my mind, this time it was risk, or an experience from the yonder reaches of my overpacked mind rustling around.
I can't explain why it comes and what it is, but I read this the other day and it felt true.
People ask me how I make music. I tell them I just step into it. It’s like stepping into a river and joining the flow. Every moment in the river has its song.
I feel that way about writing.
It's not some rapid flipping through a thesaurus, trying to sound pro or crafting words to convince readers of my ideas.
It's just something I step into.
I feel it, like a river, the Holy Spirit moving when I poke around my anointing.
And if I know anything, it's that words are my tools, my company, my anointing.
There is something to be said through me and when I sit ready, it all comes out.
So this wee piece about risking your heart in love?
I stepped into it.
And with that comes the constant recognition that my experiences are meant to come under my tools and put into a context, a frame that imparts wisdom.
Give something people can walk away with, hopefully without trying to date a linebacker.