I love to write. I love the open possibilities. Words can form any story, can paint any image.
Words can bring the impossible to life and allow us to glimpse the infinite.
And if we conspire with our dark imaginings, constraints and barriers can be blown away as we sail though a space limited only by how willing we are to destroy the walls around our ideas.
Writing, sometimes, allows access to the parts of ourselves which yearn for the ultimate freedom: to imagine the impossible, to dream of what's not but could be, to vision a world that's better, or even to put words to the fear of a reality mostly avoided -only glimpsed when we open our eyes.
Writing is false and true, fiction and fact. Is horror, and beauty, wound in tangled tresses around the ordinary and exotic. An exploration of philosophy and belief.
And writing, done properly, is fun.
A toast: to the love of writing!