Why Write?

Somehow even the thought that others would be interested in what I have to say seems rather arrogant. Technology has provided a forum for pretty much anyone to claim a soapbox and climb up on it.  I claimed mine and climbed upon it.

Blogging has become ubiquitous in a very short time. Some bloggers pen voluminous posts touting their particular views on a topic. Anything from sports to current events to religion to... you name it is fair game.

I made a conscious decision when I started my blog that I was not going to use it as a forum for my personal views; even though they certainly come through from time to time because that are part of what makes me who I am. Rather, I see my blog as a canvas onto which I paint my memories with words.

Some of the paintings make me laugh. Others make me cry. All of them, though, open a window through which I can see into my own heart and soul.

Each event in my life has somehow played a part, no matter how small, in molding me into the man I have become. Each memory is more than just a recounting of an event in my life; it is a revelation - even to me - of how my past has shaped my present.

I decided to blog because I learn a little more of myself each time I sit before my keyboard and allow my fingers to translate my memories into words. The memories that remind me, for example, that I didn't randomly become who I am.

I don't see myself as the next big thing with thousands of subscribers or the ability to sell ad revenue. Instead, I see myself as more of a modern day John Boy Walton; conveying my recollections to anyone who stumbles upon my blog. Rather than putting pencil to a Big Chief tablet like John Boy; I merely let my fingers fly over the keys - the letters and numbers seemingly magically appearing on the screen. My thoughts published for anyone in the world to see with the click of a single button.

So why do I write?

The simple answer is because I can.

There's more to it than that, of course.

I write because I must.