Never not beautiful

You read and you write. You pay bills and you send bills to your customers. In between all the reading and writing you take your best shot at living.

The person writing and the person reading, are they really one and the same? The person writing is the same person as the one paying the bills, no doubt about that. But is he or she the same person as the one who does the reading?

Domenico Ghirlandaio - St John the Evangelist on the Island of Patmos (detail)

Domenico Ghirlandaio - St John the Evangelist on the Island of Patmos (detail)

When I read, I feel humbled by other writers' greatness. Yet when I write I toss all humbleness aside and feel like a lion tearing apart the shoddy cloth of poor fools' fallacies, then sewing the pieces back together, the way I believe things should have been said and done from the start. My illusions of grandeur are not always founded in reality as e.g. it is quite silly to use a sewing lion as a metaphor for anything. So, if not like a lion, then at least like an angry bear. A small, but sufficiently angry bear. A bear with sharp claws and surprising tailoring skills.

Reading and writing to me are a roller-coaster of self-esteem. Write, then read, then write again. Feel like a giant, then like a dwarf, then like a giant again. It's beautiful. Also exhausting. But never not beautiful.