Those of you who follow me know that this blog is all about my writing voice
and finally embracing a great passion that has been stirring in my belly for decades. It has been like a great, black witch’s cauldron steaming with ingredients that have been added over years until it is a rich, thick mixture. These include experiences of joys, betrayals, heartaches, illnesses, etc. Basically, the elements of life.
I have finally started opening up about this passion and the grand experiment of my blog and writing. The response by a few people has been to call it a hobby. They say that they are glad I am enjoying my hobby, or, good luck with my hobby. Ugh. It isn’t a hobby it is a passion.
A hobby to me is something that you do to relax or that you can buy the components for at a hardware store or a craft store. A hobby is a creative, calming escape. My writing is something more.
My writing is more of an affair; a deep passionate, all consuming affair. I think about it when I rise, when I am my most linguistically virile. And I think about it before I sleep, when my brain is sluggish but still yearning and grasping for ideas.
It consumes my thoughts during the day and when I am in the midst of writing it is both pleasurable and painful. Just like an affair is both delightful and damning simultaneously. In fact I have been fantasizing about writing this blog for the better part of a
day already. I can’t stop thinking about it.
So, please don’t demean my passion, that living breathing beast inside me, by delegating it to some basement or garage hobby. More people should embrace their passions; that trumpeting, clarion calling we are all born with. Those aren’t just hobbies. They are the fires that warm, touch, and transform everything in life.