I was asked today how do I write, how long have I written, and why.

It’s a gift, a blessing, a curse, a tool to look deep within and view the core. Hyper Empathy, affective empathy, discernment,etc, they each play a role.

Writing isn’t just an act for me; it’s a release, a necessity. Every word I pen, whether on paper or electronically comes from the deepest parts of my heart, my mind, my breath, and every fiber of my being go into what I create.

You cannot know the writer as a person, unless you read them, yes, actually taking time to really read them; no matter how many conversations you have with them. Their mind is 50 miles ahead of you and you can’t keep up.

The worlds I build come from my senses, my memories, my experiences, my travels, my losses, my victories, and all the quiet things in between my chest and my spine.

People who don’t write don’t get it.

They see just words,but they don’t see what it took to get my words there:  the weight the memories, the scars, the little pieces of life you tear out of yourself just to make something to create a life.

Everything is emotionally felt, the hurt, the love, the loss, the dust of old places and faces, it all finds its way into what I write.

Writing, expending the emotional and mental energy is the closest thing to bleeding without the blood, at least for real writers/authors.

You want to know me; then read me.