There's a short video that captures this essence of why we create. The title is "Why man creates" and the answer is simple, yet astounding; we create because we are convinced that we matter....
yeah, I just thought along the lines....but couldn't quite articulate it. Thank you.
Maybe it's not always like that...sometimes we're convinced of nothing, in a sense that we' re not really thinking, thus are not really convinced...and the feeling isn't even of something..shaped? but rather taken apart...
But in order to continue stubbornly...under any circumstances...one needs to be slightly madly convinced at least of something...maybe being mad is one of states of being convinced, unless madness is such it's utterly depersonalizing....
Sorry, just thinking out loud.
It is for sure a great question to ponder.
I've several other potential answers, yet they mostly tie, in a way, into this one
I started to write at a time when I was suffering from written word withdrawal for the lack of books, and then I discovered that if I wrote, I could chase the plot bunnies out of my head onto the written page.
I strongly remember it being much-harder-to-get-strongly-asssociated-with-New-Years' clementines. мандаринки. If I'd to revive how Novyj God smells- it's fur tree(or pine, depends) needles' smell. Fur tree and clementines. And snow.
I write to give future life to a past or present experience. That was my thought easing into your essay. By the end, you validated that beautifully as being at the core of most if not all writing that is meaningful, in whatever genre, at whatever level.
Very impressive love to see young people like you writing so beautifully
👏👏👏 This article is a small masterpiece, Liza! 🇷🇺🇮🇱🇦🇿✡️
There's a short video that captures this essence of why we create. The title is "Why man creates" and the answer is simple, yet astounding; we create because we are convinced that we matter....
yeah, I just thought along the lines....but couldn't quite articulate it. Thank you.
Maybe it's not always like that...sometimes we're convinced of nothing, in a sense that we' re not really thinking, thus are not really convinced...and the feeling isn't even of something..shaped? but rather taken apart...
But in order to continue stubbornly...under any circumstances...one needs to be slightly madly convinced at least of something...maybe being mad is one of states of being convinced, unless madness is such it's utterly depersonalizing....
Sorry, just thinking out loud.
It is for sure a great question to ponder.
I've several other potential answers, yet they mostly tie, in a way, into this one
I started to write at a time when I was suffering from written word withdrawal for the lack of books, and then I discovered that if I wrote, I could chase the plot bunnies out of my head onto the written page.
Does the title of 'The Leverkühn Quartet' reflect the protagonist of Thomas Mann's version of Faust?
I strongly remember it being much-harder-to-get-strongly-asssociated-with-New-Years' clementines. мандаринки. If I'd to revive how Novyj God smells- it's fur tree(or pine, depends) needles' smell. Fur tree and clementines. And snow.
I write to give future life to a past or present experience. That was my thought easing into your essay. By the end, you validated that beautifully as being at the core of most if not all writing that is meaningful, in whatever genre, at whatever level.