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    Snowballs

    January 30, 2020

    We read, we write, we think, and we form something of a self. We live. We experience other people and events. And our soul is informed. We slowly become individuals, over time. The writer is like a snowball who picks up debris as he/she rolls. We all do. We are all snowballs. But a writer leaves some of that behind.

     

    I have known Craig over the course of many lives. When we met in this one there was a recognition, an unspoken knowing. We are both writers. We take all the webs we spin up in our heads and attempt to arrange them in some form that speaks to other people. This is a difficult undertaking. And a frustrating one. How do I get you to see what I see?

     

    Storytelling is the art of shared imagination. One person has a dream and he/she tries to get another person to see and understand it. The sharing of dreams. Can I put you in my dream? I don’t know. But I try. Photography can be similar. I see something in the world, a face say, and I attempt to show it to you as I see it. For a moment, but only a moment, it is locked in, visually. If I can also manage to evoke a feeling, even an unnamed one, I have succeeded in sharing the dream as I see it.

     

    A good storyteller is one whose dream you respect. Whose dream you want to share. Their snowball is filled with interesting stuff. Whether it’s Steven Speilberg, or Mark Rothko, or Craig Clevenger. Theirs is a snowball I want to collide with.

     

     

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