writer, painter

by walterdoege

I’ve written a lot off line…some of these writings are on line, and the best place is this blog…a little home…to share the living…sometimes I feel that writer work is close to a painter work…each time I can write online drafts…each time I give up the search of the perfect words and phrases, I can write something, like a painter searching to draw some paisage…it seems like each word is a color, and the phrases the painting motion…the text and texture is some between paisage and a piece of writing…not so close to the sculptor…although my writer work seems to build a touchable one…as when I can touch a statue, I can listen the sounds of a song…it seems that writing is something that does exist while its been reading, and after vanishes…in the air, and in the soul…as sculptor, as a scriptor…a writing is best touched as a book…a book in old fashion, some concrete one…although my will is not in the book, but in reading motion…a writing is one half, the reading is the other half