The art of words is a skill carefully worked towards. It is a pursuit that can not merely be dropped off and hoped to mature, much like any skill. Instead it is a jealous talent, seeking time and energy to flow together in a cohesive and effective way. To some people this merely consists of the functionality of the written word. Others though, the wilder artists, often spend hours trying to ease the words from the page - like a wood carver and his sculpture.
I myself am an apprentice crafter, still searching for the best techniques and seeking the prettiest colors. I don’t suppose any master artist is himself truly ever satisfied either, so I don’t have myself up in a knot about my shortcomings. It is merely a delightful challenge to be undertaken, a journey across oceans of ink and thought, penned on blank sheets awaiting print.
This semester has been a good stretch, a push from the coach who makes their athlete feel utterly exhausted, probably mostly incompetent and even like they are degressing, but who in fact comes out feeling a little more accomplished and ready to tackle the next competition.
I began the semester with a limping attempt at fanciful wording. Stilted ideas tried to piece themselves together in my Assessment Paper, sticking with a jarring unpolish.
“I can’t even begin to conceive how I would know how to gain all that I have merely by myself - I couldn’t, it would be virtually impossible to include every particle. There would be no way to travel to as many places and go through all of those things in that short of a time period and still live the rest of my life. “
Till, further into the semester, my blog decided to take flight in luscious word choice and distinct imagery.
“Simple ropes clutch at a protruding pole, drifting down plainly to provide a board attached for a seat. It invites with a gentle sway. Take a seat, it says. One sits, hands clutching the rope, and the swing continues its lull, a gentle shush, a rock and a tip; breathing calm air into hungry lungs.”
The slow evolving of text was appetizing. Granted, with certain instances, I did not improve upon my writing; but, those lapses are perfectly understandable, and therefore acceptable, when faced with the task of writing so much whilst maintaining other responsibilities and enjoyments.
If my writing hadn’t had the subtle progression, one thing for sure which has evolved is probably my capability for better working with what I have. By that I simply mean: time - the ability to work quickly and efficiently grew ever more apparent; resources - which can be a real chewy task to undertake, but which is possible; and lastly, a mind stretched to the edge of my creativity, challenging my perspective and begging for innovation and originality.
In all, my writing experience and maturity has improved throughout the semester, and despite the difficulty at times, I am ultimately glad for the experience. There is much adventure left for me to seek, and I relish the idea of hunting it down and carving it up with an expert flair.
