Why do I write? It’s sort of a scary question for me, Helen, in part because I haven’t quite figured out why I write. I write about nature — an imperfect word for what’s most genuine in the world: whatever walks, hops, swims, slithers, flies, grows, or sits there evolving or decaying (or both). Anyway, I think that my bond with nature makes me a better human being. And I suspect that I write not really to say anything about myself (honest), but more so to share with others the experience and opportunities in the natural world. I do write for me as well, however. At ease and at home among wildlife in wild places, I write to help me find my footing in the rest of the world, maybe make some sense of the place ... and the humans who've messed things up so terribly.
But I shall continue to think (maybe even write) on this. Thanks, Helen!
I love your writing, Bryan. Maybe like any art, it makes you see and feel nature more intimately. That's a gift to the rest of us, so keep it going, even if you never know why!
“I am conscious of how words are also like water, appearing and disappearing, making new forms, never fixed for long. We shouldn’t be so attached to them, really.” This might very well help me get to my desk today, Helen. Thank you. It takes aim at my own committee that wants to make sure whatever words come out are ‘right’ but generally just prevents any words at all. This all so true and beautiful. Thank you.
Why do I write? It’s sort of a scary question for me, Helen, in part because I haven’t quite figured out why I write. I write about nature — an imperfect word for what’s most genuine in the world: whatever walks, hops, swims, slithers, flies, grows, or sits there evolving or decaying (or both). Anyway, I think that my bond with nature makes me a better human being. And I suspect that I write not really to say anything about myself (honest), but more so to share with others the experience and opportunities in the natural world. I do write for me as well, however. At ease and at home among wildlife in wild places, I write to help me find my footing in the rest of the world, maybe make some sense of the place ... and the humans who've messed things up so terribly.
But I shall continue to think (maybe even write) on this. Thanks, Helen!
I love your writing, Bryan. Maybe like any art, it makes you see and feel nature more intimately. That's a gift to the rest of us, so keep it going, even if you never know why!
This means a lot to me coming from you.
“I am conscious of how words are also like water, appearing and disappearing, making new forms, never fixed for long. We shouldn’t be so attached to them, really.” This might very well help me get to my desk today, Helen. Thank you. It takes aim at my own committee that wants to make sure whatever words come out are ‘right’ but generally just prevents any words at all. This all so true and beautiful. Thank you.