Writing as a cathartic instrument
I find that on days that I do not write I feel poorer than on days that I do. There is a lesson here quite. For the last few days I have not written and I have felt wretched. Writing allows one (or me) to defragment one’s mind, put the state of the day in perspective and dip a back through history. Preferably with good music, and at night when all else is quiet save the wind in the trees outside my bedroom window.
I’m not sure if the following anecdote is truly connected with this thread, but I am reminded of the conversation that a lady took up with Dr. Johnson after he had incorrectly defined the word “pastern” as being the knee-cap of a horse.
“Ignorance madam. Sheer ignorance.”
Yes, writing can be an arduous affair.
