I am writing in the rain. My computer is exactly eighteen inches from my office window.
Outside, the trellis is heavy with climbing jasmine and trained plumbago. The soft sounds of the falling rain are echoed in the movement of the leaves they pelt.
I am warm and dry, yet somehow a part of the dripping scene in front of me. This landscape has been my food for the day, a rich diet of wet leaves, green vistas, and periwinkle blue flowers.
Writers need to be nourished. We are, after all, artists. To create we must refuel our tanks. To “find our art” as Pablo Picasso famously said, we must be able to draw in, process, and send out a piece of ourselves.
How one does this is entirely dependent on the personality of the individual. We writers are a unique lot — and what refreshes one will exhaust another. I have listed some of my favorite ways to keep the words I am looking for flowing freely. Continue reading “A Room With A View”
