Writing is like pole dancing. I think.
I think, writing is like pole dancing.
Pole dancing is like being a writer.
Isn’t it fabulous how one can say the “same” thing many times over, and each subtle variation evokes a different emotional response?
It is wonderful how each subtle variation in word choice says such different things while using basically the same words.
With each flash of leg or curve or flight of hair, I create a new post on this blog. I reveal and hide different shapes to bring about various thoughts and emotions in your mind. The bouncers, my editorial skills, maintain my safety and protect me from getting *too* close to anyone. And in my isolation, I am with each of you individually. Yet, we never meet; we don’t call; we will never write. We are the canvas needed by each other: on one side, I need you to watch, you are my audience. My motives are disguised by my clothing, and they hide what I don’t want you to know. On the other side, you need me to feed your fantasies. In this public and sordid place, we share intimate secrets.
And it is art.