My blogging friend Calensariel wrote a beautiful post about why she loves and continues to write >>>I write because<<<. It’s beautiful, well worth reading and it left me wondering about my own motivation. We all have different reason why we write and I was wondering what were mine? The love to write is one thing, but why do I share it with the world – well, part of the world anyway?
Oh, I had to laugh about today’s prompt and even though I am in puppy-raising vacation, I couldn’t help it and wanted to write something about it.
“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.
I just finished reading a book again, that I read for the first time over 20 years ago. We had a community garage sale a few weeks back and I stopped at one of my neighbors house and there it was, the book that I wanted to read again was for sale on her table for 25 cents. I grabbed it quickly, couldn’t believe how lucky I was. I paid and held the book tight.