WHY WRITING?

CASEY BEEMAN

* ARTISTIC INTRODUCTION Through the horizontal blinds of the window before me, I allow myself to become absentmindedly hypnotized by the frosted flakes that fall from an off-white sky. Without wind, they gently drift toward a snowglazed front lawn, occasionally swerving with intent as if they have suddenly spotted a fallen friend and wished to land tenderly beside him. In this moment, these silent snowflakes define serenity. The wind picks up. The world is dissatisfied with a lack of disorder at present. Against a pine tree backdrop, my snowflakes swirl like cream stirred into coffee; they are a swarm of albino bees who whip around this winter scene- completely careless. They pummel toward the earth, one after another, trusting fate to position each individual flake wherever fortune sees fit. In this moment, Mother Nature is a frustrated painter who grew tired of the tedious intricacies in her perfectionism and, instead, decided to rush completion of the unfinished work of art outside my window. I wish that I could explain to her that you cannot rush something beautiful. Art takes time. It is a process in which we patiently await the proper inspiration and, upon finding it, proceed with our creative purpose. Incentivized by self-expression, we practice at our own paceimpartial to prerequisites and free from expectations. Art is the voice of our progression.

Writing is art. To me, it feels like writing is the most direct artistic route to expression. Words combine and connect together, stretching out like telephone poles, beginning with intention and concluding where the line finds its desired destination. A sentence delivers a message that is as comprehensible as the artist intends it to be, whereas a painting is often open for interpretation. A writer uses little black symbols in an organized structure to communicate a message. The feeling is determined through language. A painter depicts the world through a purely visual representation. The message is established in each individual viewing and is based on a much wider range of perception. Not to knock the painters (or discredit them in any manner) because I acknowledge, with admiration, the fact that they have an artistic talent that I do not. The same goes toward artists of every genre. They all express themselves in a manner most efficient to getting their own personal message across. For some reason, however, I have been blessed with a passion for putting words together to deliver my message. Like a matchmaker setting up a couple of people, I take pride in producing a promising combination. Sometimes, it feels like two words were meant to be together. Maybe they live happily ever after! If not, I revise their linguistic love affair. In the end, regardless of the time spent pontificating sounds and strengths and syllables, I conclude each orchestration with the self-satisfaction that comes with an artistic selfprogression.

* PENS WITH PURPOSE The entire process of writing, just like any other medium of art, begs the question of purpose. To the writer, it seems only natural to put pen and paper together in a quest to make some words. To the vast majority of students, however, our rational is lost between the lines. To put it most simply: the reason that writers write is because we enjoy it. Just like anything that people may find entertaining, it gives us pleasure to practice. Personally, I fancy the idea that words live longer than people and, in a strange act of self-preservation, hope that my thoughts poured onto pages will extend the period of time that a part of me exists on this ever-turning planet. If my grandparents and great grandparents had left themselves behind in the form of the written word, I would have a much clearer understanding of my ancestry. I once read that "to know where you're going, you must know where you've been," and- the more I learn about my heritage- the more I understand myself in terms of why I think and act the way I do. In that sense, I write to document experience. It may be wishful thinking, but I feel like someday there will be somebody who reads my writings and can resultantly achieve a greater sense of self in doing so. Now, not all of my work is carried out with this mindset. I've often considered my writing as an eventual means of self-reflection. Since I was eighteen, I've been filling notebooks with thoughts, ideas, poems, and stories. I've often enjoy going back and revisiting the various stages of my documented life. The most fascinating part is directly observing the changes that have taken place in my philosophies, beliefs and

perspectives. Beyond stylistic transformations in my writing, I can examine the development of my thoughts, ideas and perceptions. I can consider my own intellectual growth over time. I can remember how things felt to me while they were happening, unaltered by the ego or the era in between. When I am older, I hope that these writings will serve as tools of understanding that will make me a better teacher and parent. If I ever grow cynical toward love, I need only look back a few chapters in order to recall my "hopelessly romantic twenties." If I ever contemplate my philosophical outlook on things, I could easily dissect the progression of my philosophy through various poems and written considerations.

* ADDRESSING AUDIENCE Audience is everything in writing. Very rarely (I believe) do we ever write purely for ourselves. In many circumstances, we write to vent or write to think, but we would be lying if we claimed an assumption that our words would never be read by anyone other than ourselves. If this were the case, writers would be the intellectual equivalent of "a dude who incessantly talks to himself."

I mean, to some extent, we must be crazy. The greatest writers seem to always have a whole mess of their own internal struggles. Consequently, there is something in their writing with which the audience can relate. In doing so, maybe the writer helps the reader to make sense of their own reality. We are all people, after all, which is why I believe that- in writing- the audience is everything. You see, it is the ability to interact with an audience that makes a writer unique. Much like an actor or standup comedian- if the performance/interaction is effective, then the message is meaningful, the performer is memorable, and the entire creative process is validated. However, the audience must be one that the writer feels strongly for, thereby inspiring a sense of purpose for the writing.

* DRAMATIC CONCLUSION To reconsider the scene outside my window (which has since calmed back to a serene snowfall), I find that my point is pretty accurately represented. Think of these letters as snowflakes. When they fall into place with a flawless grace... they are the equivalent of a silent snowfall. In contrast, when the wind picks up with inspirational force, they are thrown into their position, falling into lines like soldiers rushed: crashing and clashing with one another in a state of forced

inspiration. I am inclined to remind Mother Nature that the creation of beauty is something that takes time and, as it is upon the earth, it is upon the page. Clearly, she does not quite grasp this premise. I will admit, watching out the window and over her shoulder as she created her scene was not respectful in regards to the creative process. Mother Nature must certainly have felt slightly self-conscious (as most artists would) knowing that someone was judging a work-in-progress. A serene snowfall scene would have sufficed. Instead, she underestimated my patience and chose to take hastened action instead of seeking self-satisfaction. The point is that a true artist is aware of their audience but is able to disregard physical presence for sake of creating something with integrity. A musician once wrote that "you've got to lose yourself in the music, the moment, you own it- you can never let it go." It makes sense. In my personal opinion, that is what makes for a "true" artist; the ability to disregard the expectations and limitations in the consideration of others' desires while always knowing that the audience exists. So, what is writing to me? If I may finally sweep away the concepts of purpose and preservation, I might be able to iterate an idea worth internalizing. Let's see...