I’m a graduate student in physics, studying the weird world of quantum mechanics and its application. I write in my free time as a way to exercise my right brain and subconscious creativity. In other word, it’s my way of balancing the use of my grey matters. I like writing, but I figure that I’ll always be a scientist first and foremost. That will always be where my inspiration comes from, more or less.
Here you’ll find the result of my right brain running amok, from reviews of stories I’ve read to my own take on creative writing to disowned plot bunnies (in which you can adopt, if you like) to just random dump of something. I’m still learning how to self-edit and English is not my mother tongue so my copy is far from pristine. I always welcome suggestions and critiques.
About Me and Writing – A.K.A. A Letter to My Reader-Friends
Writing started out as being a way of communication to me. I am a bad speaker, even for something daily and ordinary; I never seemed to be able to get my point across. It seems to me that while my mouth opens, my brain cannot think. It is listening to what I am saying and most of the time I got lost to what my speech should have delivered.
Writing is different, writing is more natural to me. With only the sound of typing, I can focus on the now, on where I am, and what I want to say. Writing can be tailored to deliver exactly what it should. It can be short and precise, or lengthy and poetic. My thought roams more freely on its landscape than any place else and its shadow can be captured until the end of time.
That is also why I like reading. Literature can capture thoughts that come in a fleeting moment and trap it so to be examined and understood. Writers leave part of themselves in their work that would stay until forgotten. For me, that is the true fascination of books; they are images of souls like photographs are images of emotions, physical appearance and reminders of long-gone memories.
Thus, to me, writing are like taking photographs, like painting a vivid dream, like sketching an outline of a portrait. And like those things, it interacts with the people who come across it, not with everyone but at least with some. And in those interactions they can give off off-springs as thoughts and inspirations.
I seems to be glorifying the art of writing here, but hear me out that I am aware of what it actually is: a mere tool. It is one of many tools a person can choose. All tools are equivalent in quality; choosing one is just a matter of taste. It just happen that I choose writing. It just happen that I like it.
Sharing what is written takes some courage, because it is like baring your soul to others, putting into public eyes your vulnerability. At times it can feel like you are naked with all the clothes on. But after a while, it becomes more comfortable like getting used to your own skin. I don’t think of this statement as a metaphor but strictly what had taken place, only that the skin wasn’t tangible. So here I share. How else can the remnants interacts if you don’t give it a chance? Painting needs to be seen. Music need to be listened. So does writings need to be read.
With the internet, it is now very easy to for ideas to interact and flourish. A dangerous time, actually, but I will leave that for another time. Back in my youth, you need to be somebody to say something out loud and have it printed on pages. Now it seems that everyone can do it. Everyone can say something. Everyone can write. Everyone can share. That’s the beauty we didn’t have before.
Before I bore you out of your mind, let me properly give you my thanks for coming by, for reading what I had shared, and for sharing what you have thought. I would love this interaction to occur again, so if you like, you can leave your links here in the comment section of this page. If it is not something inappropriate, highly offensive, or just a down right spam, I will leave it here for the world to see.
Again, Thank you so much for coming by.
With Warm Regards,