At least the view....

At least the view from my cage is nice. I doubt you would hear any animal in the zoo say that (perhaps partly because they do not talk. But you get my drift) That's the only thing I can think while I look out the sealed up window beside my desk, that and, I really wish it opened. The sun is out and the trees are beautiful, I'm sure its a miserably humid southern summer day, but I wish I was on the boat all the same.

I have found recently that stroking my creative intellect is like opening a can of worms, the more I think, write, and read, the more my creative thoughts bubble over. I use writing as an outlet for it, but the more I write, the more I have to say. So I've been toying with the idea of taking art lessons to try and relieve some of this creative tension. If that also spurrs any more creative thoughts and tendency's I think I may very well burst. Even when I was very small I always enjoyed doing anything creative, making Christmas tree ornaments or new coin jars, it wasn't always writing, but I had to flex my creative muscles to feel happy. I have interests in pretty much all the known arts, I did lots of stage acting in my teenage years, I've always drawn moderately well, while I cannot sing I am able to play musical instruments with some success if I practice. On the other side of the coin, watching me play sports or do a math problem is about as awkward as a camel climbing a mountain of ice.

I can also remember a lot of stories my mother always told me before bedtime. I'm a lot like her in my opinion, she is also a writer but in terms of what we write, and how we write, we could not be on farther ends of the spectrum. She has written some of the best bedtime stories I can think of to date. She is an incredibly gifted story teller, and that is not my strong suit. I am highly technical and am more of an essay/persuasive writer, even though I have written my share of stories they really pale in comparison to hers. Some I can still recall almost word for word. Her writing is very uplifting. We are two different spirits yet very much the same. My father is very technical, a perfectionist, and somewhat cynical. I think some of my differences from her come from his hand in my genetics and upbringing.

That's just a little insight on who I am, as my mind wanders on this beautiful summer day.