Why I Write
Can I cook?
I must look at the instructions on the side of the box to prepare a bowl of pasta and require an online recipe to make a very standard omelet.
Am I musically inclined?
I utilized the “fake it ‘til you make it” strategy in middle school band as I did not comprehend how to read or differentiate any musical notes in my trombone performance. I have not continued these trombone efforts.
How do I fare in athletics?
I can’t finish a mile-long run without stopping to catch my breath and question why I ever would choose to go on a run in the first place.
Do I have the ability to construct a sturdy ceramic coil pot?
My ninth grade ceramic coil pot exploded in the kiln and actually ruined two other students’ ceramic coil pots. Yikes.
As you can see, I am not the most adept at producing things. I lack a certain creativity in a life so full of interdisciplinary opportunities, and thus, have limited platforms in which I can express myself. If I attempted to present a singed omelet-turned-scrambled eggs dish as a representation of me, I feel like people would not get the right impression. This incompetence in ordinary life skills has prevented me from producing the creativity or self-expression I frequently crave.
Writing is different though. Writing has become my pathway to producing, and in contrast to every other basic life task, it can be easy for me to produce. It can be effortless. Alliterations and anaphora’s come to my mind quicker than a summertime heatwave withers a rose garden. Thesis statements are no daunting task, but the opportunity to submerge into a specific cavern of academia. Conclusions are not some bullshit paragraph to meet the word count – they’re that final gift tucked in the unseen corner under the Christmas tree just waiting to be unwrapped. I can actually comprehend literary devices and complexities naturally – there is no need for an instructional pamphlet or recipe book when I’m writing. In this mode, creativity and self-expression is bountiful, and more often than not, is also instinctive.
Even when producing writing loses its ease, it is still different. When I’ve hit that inevitable writer’s block and just can’t think of that one word or one phrase or one paragraph, I know it’s not because I’m incapable of producing. I don’t have an overwhelming sense of impossibility and ineptitude like I do with the other life skills. I’m struggling because I’m striving for the best word, the perfect phrase, and the ideal paragraph. The difficulties that I come across are simply a testament to my writing abilities and potential. With writing, I don’t have to set my limits to just producing something commonplace; I can create something meaningful with purpose and intricacy.
The act of producing in itself is also so rare. In my most enjoyable activities, I am not a primary producer. In fact, I’m not a producer at all. When I watch extravagant films, listen to excellent music, and attend exciting sporting events, I am the audience. They are fun, but not my personal accomplishments. As aforementioned, in most facets of life in which I can produce, it is not easy, but rather frustrating and exhausting and tedious and any other synonym for non-enjoyable. When putting words to the page and expressing my thoughts and beliefs on a canvas though, I am creating a product I can call my own. This time, it’s actually enjoyable. When I write, I am able to produce in an enjoyable process.
Overall, writing is something I can be proud of. My writing can be revered by scholars worldwide or remain in my drafts forever, and either way, I will have known I produced something. Writing lets me express myself and my creative side; it lets me produce something personal and enjoyable, and I can do it without destroying other people’s ceramic coil pots. In my life, that is a unique and exciting feeling.
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