The Fallible Masterpiece

To say that I love the written word is similar to saying the President has a body guard; highly understated.

Writing is my life. Yet, words even ones imbued with all the necessary adjectives and adverbs can lead the reader astray. People often read not just what's between the lines but what's behind the lines. Often, what they are looking for isn’t there. 

One facet of reading that I find most interesting, and at the moment devastating, is how the reader will read words colored not by the text but by what rests within the reader's mind and heart. Often those are the same colors that paint their world. If we have been abused by anger, we see it everywhere. If we have been marred by lies, we hear lies whispered behind the words. These are terrible colors. They are real, and shouldn’t be ignored. But every artist knows when a color is appropriate and when it isn’t. And every master painter has a rag hanging close by, to wipe away a misplaced color before it destroys the masterpiece.

I have friends that send emails that are clipped, short and direct. But I know these people, I know how to absorb their words. If a stranger were to do the same, I would draw a different conclusion. 

I tend to never write a clipped sentence; its not in my nature. But, a simple sentence that reads: call me, can sound sensitive and vulnerable or overbearing and angry. The first being what the writer intended, the second being what the reader feared. This is the grey area found within the written word. When writing a novel, the author has time to lull the reader into a specific frame of mind: short, quick or soft and subtle. Emails and texts lack the same emotional soundtrack. 

I had a very dear person read something I wrote and sense something that wasn’t there. Non existent. He read what he feared, not what was written. 

Life is magical, emotions are made of the same dynamic energy that moves planets. They are intense, they are overpowering and overwhelming. Yet, so many of us, paint our world with misplaced colors. Its up to us, to step back and make certain we're using our colors wisely. If one accidentally swipes black over blue, don’t throw the painting away. Take your rag out, make things right, and smile again at what you’ve created. The written word is just another masterpiece, riddled with misplaced colors, and images seen only by each individual viewer. Subjective and divine.

I will be taking a break for a while. I hope to be back soon. But I need time to step back from my own painting. A new color recently brightened my canvas, but now, something has gone wrong. I’m not removing the color, as it was too beautiful. It takes courage to paint with a new color. Without it, the masterpiece was lacking. So, I’m letting the painting sit. I’ll glance at it often, and I’ll feel sadness while I try to make sense of things. If you haven’t already, dig into my book. The me you read here, is the me you’ll read there. I rarely change. Either way, I can't stop writing, so I’ll be back. 

Sane