An article about what it means to write with passion and how I would describe this emotion which in fact is one of suffering for the things we long for the point of feeling a certain amount of pain in ourselves.
I had always felt something when I wrote regardless of what it was in simplicity or in complication, this ranging from a simple letter to a friend or an article or a story. This being what I would describe as longing to get my thoughts out on paper or monitor in the clearest way possible to express what emotions were going on inside me at the time in which my mind was conjuring up the ideas I felt needed to be captured. It being like an agony, in a fashion of almost despair to get to what was transpiring in my mind, to bring it out on paper in a way that expressed with some preciseness what it was that I wanted the reader to understand or feel for it would be the same that was occurring within.
Passion which in reality means suffering (as opposed to joy or anything else) is what I was feeling and still do when I work on whatever I may chose to do so, whether it be a novel or a poem; as there is a certain lack in me. This what I so much require as I write that it is not happiness but need in me to get across that what my emotions hold till the point that I do endure, whilst attempting to do so. It being such that having done so even when with success does but bring about relieve if it happens to be that mine was transformed to screen via words. It is this to my mind which makes writing have any value what so ever; distinguishing it from descriptions to be found on instruction booklets or items of the sort that may include words added to such everyday items as a tube of toothpaste.
There was something I felt in this motion of writing, which to me went beyond an action as in fact I did see the results of all these sentiments when I looked upon what I had done yet it was not mine to be naïve in the extreme that would lead me to believe that all like I did would testify to the same. This being that I had in fact conveyed this passion on to the words I had placed on the screen, as my feelings had dictated to my mind to pass on to my writing. It however was not till I met Steven Sharpe that I became aware that others could sense the same emotions that I had experienced while writing which I presented. It being this man from Wales who for the first time allowed me to see that so too there were people apart from myself who felt what I did when reading my work.
It in a way was something unexpected to me to be told by Steven Sharpe (owner of the www.articleland.co.uk) that he could sense what it was that I was experiencing when he read my work as in all truth I would have never thought that I could convey that which was inside me to the point that others could sense it, yet it must be so for thus would many go on to tell me. Writing with passion is that which several have told me I am capable of and where it is not my place to say so, I but repeat what many have phrased in their comments in the hope of being able to explain what it is or how I perceive the concept of writing with this precise in emotion. This which in my opinion if nobody else’s is so necessary if literature is to be considered an art form as opposed to merely writing down words that take on the form of sentences and then paragraphs.
Passion however above all one must remember is a feeling of suffering and hurting perhaps outwardly due to physical pain as did Jesus Christ in an action that was dubbed in the works of so many pieces of art as “The Passion Of The Christ” or perhaps inwardly as do many who can not obtain that which they ache for. This being what they want till the point of suffering because they can not obtain it, such as love or a goal or a person they wish to be with to the point where it is all they want and even when they do get it, it never be to full satisfaction for there is always that element which did not fulfill itself. For it always comes in parts that we are given this which we have come to need beyond all else or at least during those moments when our emotions go about seeking it.
As an example of this I might present the musician who practices on his or her chosen instrument in the almost desperate hope of obtaining the sounds of emotions held within to the point where they will do harm if not brought out. Such could also be the case for an athlete who seeks so much to win in his or her chosen sport, as to be willing to do everything and anything to achieve this aim, for it has become a matter of life and death in a sense that defeat be not an option considered. Thus would I above all say is passion in anything which should not be confused with lust in sex or any other matter, for thou many may consider these two as the same, they are not; given the first of these two is what inspires the second in what ever it might be, such as music or sexuality.
Passion when extreme in the person I have come to observe is such that it can not even distinguish between ideals, such as right or wrong; for these no longer enter in to the frame of mind of he or she who is under its influence as lines are less clear. This more so then usual between these two which are always but points of view rather then concerns of fact however if the subject be passion in the arts and how to apply it, it is to this question that I would reply the following. It like many things is not that which can be taught to us for this which be so crucial or at least in my way of thinking is that which we have to already have within. For if it be not it can not be installed in us like information which can be passed on through lessons or the written word on paper.
In conclusion I would say that it was on this feeling that most of my works are based on and though I can only claim to feel it when in the act of writing, it is with great hope that I present my works, so they might be detected by the reader who might see what so many others have. Naturally, me not being one to believe that what some feel others must also; for everybody is different which puts none under the obligation of finding in something what others have but to seek out their own interpretation. I going in this idea to the place that tells me we should not even consider the thoughts of others when interpreting, as it should be but our own concepts that guide, which if true to ourselves never be errant; for there be none that be correct but diverse.