Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost
Although I call myself the Wandering Author, I do not consider myself to be lost. I was meant to wander through life, wondering at the things I see, treasuring them, and then moving on. That state is where I belong. It is what makes me who I am. When I wander, then I am truly at home, I am truly the person I was meant to be.
Although I have often wished to do so, I have never travelled great distances. I should love to visit Jerusalem, Oxford, Glastonbury, Venice, Rio, Singapore, Shanghai, and many other places. Yet so many people travel to these places and are never touched by them. I wander nooks and crannies closer to home, learning their ways in various seasons. And I wander in my mind, with the aid of words, of learning, of research, of infomation in the many forms available today, and even of imagination.
And each journey I take leaves its mark on me, whether I go to a nearby chasm, to the White Mountains, or to another time or a place no one has ever known before, as only authors may do. Authors can be many things, but no true author can be indifferent to life. Those things that catch our eye, that haunt our thoughts, smells, sounds, ideas, almost anything can move us to express ourselves.
An author may express such an impulse in many ways. Often, it bursts out as a poem, a short story, or even a novel. It may take the form of an article or a book on a subject the author considers worthy of discussion. But there are always thoughts that demand expression, yet have no comfortable format to call their own. In the past, authors would write these thoughts down in their journals. Today, we have other ways of expressing ourselves.
That is the purpose of this blog, to share those bits of my life that demand attention, but are insufficient to inspire short stories, poems, novels, or any printable work. Perhaps later I shall take up these ideas, and use them to build something more permanent. Yet for now, these fleeting words will serve to capture them. I hope you will enjoy my thoughts.
Although I have often wished to do so, I have never travelled great distances. I should love to visit Jerusalem, Oxford, Glastonbury, Venice, Rio, Singapore, Shanghai, and many other places. Yet so many people travel to these places and are never touched by them. I wander nooks and crannies closer to home, learning their ways in various seasons. And I wander in my mind, with the aid of words, of learning, of research, of infomation in the many forms available today, and even of imagination.
And each journey I take leaves its mark on me, whether I go to a nearby chasm, to the White Mountains, or to another time or a place no one has ever known before, as only authors may do. Authors can be many things, but no true author can be indifferent to life. Those things that catch our eye, that haunt our thoughts, smells, sounds, ideas, almost anything can move us to express ourselves.
An author may express such an impulse in many ways. Often, it bursts out as a poem, a short story, or even a novel. It may take the form of an article or a book on a subject the author considers worthy of discussion. But there are always thoughts that demand expression, yet have no comfortable format to call their own. In the past, authors would write these thoughts down in their journals. Today, we have other ways of expressing ourselves.
That is the purpose of this blog, to share those bits of my life that demand attention, but are insufficient to inspire short stories, poems, novels, or any printable work. Perhaps later I shall take up these ideas, and use them to build something more permanent. Yet for now, these fleeting words will serve to capture them. I hope you will enjoy my thoughts.
posted by The Wandering Author | Permalink: 1:03 AM
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