seasons shuffle

by walterdoege

and I can notice some new songs…some birds are arriving from other lands…some birds are going back to other landscapes…the transition from summer to autumn…I notice tiny changing colors at sundown…nights are arriving earlier…the sunset come up late…till the time when day time is equal to night time…here, at south hemisphere, the equinox of autumn…time passage…tuesday of carnaval, still…the joyous troupe keep on playing and enjoying that midts summer party…a full holyday…a day for enjoyment…a day with empty dimensions to fullfil with good ones…leisure…some rest…some labor…some time sensing at holyday tuesday…and I feel a sweet solitude, and take this writing trial…writing is close to a party…I write also for some conversation with you, reader…although lusic, or photo, or video, are so intersting ways of share and talking…the writer vocation is a strong drive inside me…writing is not exactly a choice, I choose the word vocation…and that voicing writing is also some share of my daily life experience…not exactly a diary, but close to that old way to place phrases, or even words, at a paper…at a computer screen…I observed some faster writing when I write a manuscript hand cursive writing…the words somehow appears in another form…as when I read a book, not an e book…or when I can attend an alive musical or theatre presentation…cursive handwriting is perhaps more performatic…fewer stops, to keep writing, but I also feel the new ways to write with digital media some new perpsectives of the same old writing practice…some old endeavor at new look…literature is and ancient and old endeavor…these new digital tools only offer new ways for me…to write at same old and ancient drive…drive for write…also, search for dialogue and conversation…because one motif of my writing is talk with you…even at my diary, I write not only for me…not only for some record of some impressions, perceptions…record of some sentiments…emotions…even at my diary…the written phrases come from me…to me…and to you…because I like to talk, I need to talk, trhough writing…pick up a book from my bookshelter, or muscial source form my old vynil records…is for a while…take some talk…then, while reading or listening…writing or playing…taking care of my garden…taking care of my house…all are shared moments of share life and a lovely living…the nights are coming earlier…the glowing stars are invitation for night rest, and nightly warm share of joy…at night I can sense better the day…and I can sense better the next day to come…another amazing brand new dawn…so, I am never alone…we can keep on going…we must keep on going to futures…trustful…futures are building and hard work, surprise always