#38
Nothing, Death, Madness – Magic

The empty page is the void that opens for us. It creates a space where we belong. The emptiness of the page is unoriginated, uncreated, unformed. So are we, when we open to the silence that carries our thoughts.

The process of confronting the empty page and experiencing fantasies to develop into creative works ransoms meaning from emptiness. We redeem our sanity and the only possessions we truly own - time and mindfulness - in exchange for meaning. From the irreal, from the potential, from the imagined, we carry meaning into life. We steal it from nothing.

Creativity embodies the freedom of the human spirit, which is nothing less than the liberty of our uncreated selves.

Creative writing is freedom’s language. “Language is the house of Being,” Martin Heidegger tells us. Yet, what we are cannot be said. We come forth from the Great Silence. Our bodies are whirlwinds of light, our minds a human array, dumbstruck, watching our universe accelerate into darkness too proud for stars.

Whatever we create with the strength of our own emptiness (however grandly or poorly) magnifies our humanity.