The Art of Writing - Why do I write?
By David Taehee Lee
The pen is firm and delicate in my right hand. From the tip spurs a world of unknown origin, one that refuses to be limited. I brandish the utensil like a sword, as if to cut into the mystic world I have just conceived. And for that instant, I am become the omniscient master of my grand universe.
Okay, that is perhaps not the most accurate description of my creative process. I often type with my wireless Bluetooth keyboard onto an electronic screen. Like how I am writing this very piece. Nonetheless it applies to the keyboard as well. Isn’t it just wonderful to see those solid letters pop up right in front of the eyes, bringing abstract thoughts and ideas to a form that can be preserved and shared?
Where am I getting with this?
The self.
I like writing. I think this stems from an attachment to reading. I would grab a book and read it until the pages loosen up and (somehow) the cover gets drenched. Yes, I would even read in the stall. I just couldn’t get my eyes off it. Observing other great writers of old aspires me to become like them yet not a clone, place myself high in the heavens like them yet remembered for a unique color. But I think more about that prospect and decide to focus on the “uniqueness” aspect of it. Who am I? What do I like and love? Where do I aspire to reach? Why does my heart command me to do so?
Sometimes I consider writing as a substitute for speech. There are things in the world that refuse to be unraveled by the human tongue. We give these things abstract names like happiness, gratitude, anxiety, sadness… or a special event that changed the trajectory of one’s life, a great achievement or terrible grievance. Some things are too grand or obscure to be made understood with speech. This is when I turn to writing. It lets me reach a wider audience with focused accuracy. A pat in the back is appreciated, but a cascade of “Congratulations!” on a screen also makes the day. Or sometimes I am simply overwhelmed by fatigue (whether that be physical or emotional) to speak, yet I desire to stay in contact with the world. Works.
It also allows me to observe myself at a distance. This is a power of writing I learned in my English classes. Sometimes we speak before our brain can even filter the stream of thoughts or process the vibration of the vocal chord. And the moment it escapes the lips, we immediately think, “That is not my voice…” But on a broader scale, we are perhaps strangers to our own consciousness. Many of us live within a certain framework of life, claiming the big and small deviances from the norm are what constitute uniqueness. Are you the owner of these deviations? After all, they are but electric stimulations to the brain, designed for experiencing predetermined feelings. You remain in this world to be swayed by tides you have no control over. A momentary peak does not mean anything in the periodic transverse of life. Pause. Reflect on who you are, what makes you special. Break the paradigm.
It lets me reach heights I can never otherwise. My physical self may be dwarfed in the light of the tumultuous passage of time and evolution of humanity. Yet the soul is unconfined, free to spread its wings and shine in all its light. I can write about absolutely everything and anything. If a roller coaster speeding through the air at 100mph is the only thing that will bring bolt-like ecstasy, humanity would never have invented it in the first place. A conception, a mastermind was created and written and spoken to bring it to life. And there is no society to criticize or filter my spur.
Watch me do this:
“So if you care to find me
Look to the western sky,
As someone told me lately
Everyone deserves a chance to FLY!”
It’s just a line from “Defying Gravity.” Yet my heart jumps out from my seat and starts to pump wild, as if I am the one with wings, soaring mightily across the clear blue sky.
Actually this got me to sing the entire song out loud (….is never gonna BRIIIING MEEE/EEEEE\EEE DOWNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!) and now I forgot what I wanted to write about. Well, I’ll just say that’s another thing about writing: I can start and end at anytime I want. Just like taking a break from these busy and intense college application times. Take it easy. Recharge. Go.
