Scheherezade
2002-11-15 - 9:14 p.m.

"Why do you write?"

Because I can't not do it. Everywhere I look I see stories worth telling. I can be out for lunch and while sitting out on the patio, I'll watch the people around me, or maybe passing by. I'll sometimes give them a new name, make up their histories, their quirks, their futures and put them in a setting of my own making. Give them motivations, jealousies, passions and fears. Occassionally the craft of putting the words into the correct format, the contant rewriting and overanalysing can try my patience. But for the most part, it's nearly involuntary.

"But why writing, as opposed to painting or dancing? It's all self expression."

I haven't painted in over six years. The canvasses I did finish were ultimately disatissfying - I didn't have the technique and discipline to recreate the images I saw in my minds eye. With dance, I always tried to push myself a step further, higher, limbs imperfectly arched, stretched and held. Essentially, I was always held back by physical limitations. I always wanted to try harder and sometimes those results ended in disappointments and tears, sometimes in broken toes or abused muscles.

Writing holds no such limitations for me. I can create worlds unimagined by others, and using words, give them my eyes so that they can glimpse it. Maybe even stay a while. That's who I've always wanted to be.

Scheherezade.

before - after