Sanity in escapism
Today at work, while no one was looking, I started writing a story. Hiding in my little grey cubicle, with my boss right behind me, and a million clients to call urgently, I was furiously typing words that formed a snapshot of an imaginary world. I hope to continue writing it, though who knows. Most of these things go nowhere. That’s in a sense why I prefer art or craft projects to writing ones: I mostly feel blind while writing, but I often feel guided while doing art stuff. Writing, to me, is a lot more linear, whereas with art/craft I can see it all spread out in my mind. I treasure finished writing projects more though, because they’re rarer. Anyway – even if that’s where it ends, the words on the page were a most welcome burst of creative thought in the middle of an otherwise dreary day.
Might post a bit of it later, though if I continue to work on it I might do so when it’s a bit more solid.




