The Violin Speaks the Truth.
An interesting thing occurred to me today, about what I think, and what appears before me. I suppose it is a matter of asking myself to ask the Universe what it is that I really want in this world now. And to receive.
I had the most wonderful time this evening. A talk that opened up my eyes. To know that there was at least one woman out there, who was aware of her own power—that intrinsic nest of being, exuding everywhere. In everything she does. Able to knock you down, if you would only let her.
But if there is one thing I may offer to this amazing woman, who is out there, writing her masterpiece, it is this: Perspective. From the first person. When I write, I write through the character’s eyes. I am a most careful observer of feeling. For the characters trust me enough to let me all the way in.
Into the doors that lead to darkness. Into others that blind me with light. I take the steps, all the same, promising these characters to interpret this as correctly as I can, knowing I am Terran, and my senses are limited, and perhaps this is, for a reason.