|Not my Image|
Why do I like fire? I suppose you could say I'm a bit of a pyro...not super pyro (not nearly as bad as SOTK *nervous chuckle*) but I do love fire. You know, you stare into the crackling, dancing flames and your eyes go all wonko and get really dry and start sizzling. *sniff sniff* and the smell of fire...it smells so beautiful. Of course, in the summer time when the hillsides are all a-blaze I despise the smell of fire because then it means that people are loosing their homes and animals are being consumed by those nasty flames. Controlled fire...now that's my kinda thing. Explosions, flames licking towards the stars. Now that is just beautiful.
|Not my Image|
What exactly does a raging fire have to do with writing? Well, sometimes (such as this current moment) one gets that feeling of utter desperation...it's like a raging fire inside one's limbs. Yes. Fire. Liquid, molten, flaming awesomeness. That awesomeness is so awesome it cannot stay within one for long...it must find a way to leak out. If one isn't careful it will leak out in all the wrong ways. Through the eyes...a firey glare, a flaming laugh, or (worse yet) a blazing barrage of tormenting words. Awful. Fire hurts. But, if used properly, that burning fire can be channeled (like water) and used to benefit an individual and their craft. Harness thy emotions sir knight and we shall proceed!!
|Not my Image|
Fire is dangerous, as I have already stated quite blatantly. It overcomes you and you spin out of control. Then, it suddenly sputters to its death and leaves you to freeze in its chilly absence. What do we do when we're overtaken by flames? Ok, I'll try to speak less symbolically.
Fire = emotion. Hot emotion too. Not that stuff that's just like "Oh I feel happy!" or "Oh my, that does make me happy." No no no, fire is emotion that is so out of control and raging that you can't do anything about it:
"AAAAAHHH!!! My goodness did you JUST DO THAT??? SMOOOOKIN CLOUD PUFFS!!!!! SOOOO SWEEEEEET!!!"
Yeah, that's excitement (placed in Squeak terms of course). Your heart starts pumping double beat, your breathing rate increases, you face gets blotchy, and you feel like your heart is going to pound its way right out of your ribcage and start doing the polka on the floor.
Or, there is:
"What the heck? WHAT THE HECK??? WHY THE HECK DID YOU DO THAT??? Oh my goodness, I could just punch a stagnant steel wall right now if you don't get your blob out of here. I AAAAAAAAAARGGGHHHHH!!!!!!"
*ahem* anger. Yep. It's a pretty powerful emotion (and ^^ said example does not convey the firey crazyness of such a heated emotion).
So what do you do if you get like...super heated to over-melting point? You're so filled with emotion that you're literally trembling and you feel like you need a coffee (actually, the best idea is to not have a coffee, it'll just worsen the situation, trust me). Here's what I do.
I stop. It's really hard to stop...really hard...I feel like being a dork and just smacking my fists against the wall (if I'm angry) or jumping in jubilation and believing I'll actually fly (if I'm excited). So yeah, I stop. Then you have a trembling emotional Squeaks stuck in a pose of utter agony...then...you take that Squeaks, plop her down in front of her computer and tell her "WRITE!" and she writes. Her fingers clack so dog gone fast against the keyboard or she scrambles for a pen/pencil and begins madly scribbling poetry onto a page of crinkled paper.
Folks, here's the bad news. Our emotions, our raging fires, they're really not good for our health (when they get really out of control). But, there is good news; what could potentially destroy relationships and make us into utter fools can be used to benefit us. We just have to simply take a moment to grab that breath of fresh air and then force ourselves to sit and write.
One day, I was super super super super mad. I was so steaming mad I thought I'd pop a gasket and steam would fly out my nostrils and boil my brains. And then yeah, I'd be a mental case for the rest of my life. Thank God that didn't happen! :P So I was in my room, fuming mad...so mad I punched my pillow. It felt like my heart had swollen to five times its normal size and was going to rip itself out of me and thwap along the bed onto the floor and then run off screaming some weird canto.
What did I do then? I angrily grabbed my pen and my note pad and furiously started scribbling what came to mind on the paper. Thirty minutes later, I had 13 pages of flaming poetry that seriously expressed my feelings and just invigorated me as I re-read it (not in a bad invigoration way of course). As I slowly calmed down (and 13 pages later had calmed me a lot) I went to the end and added a proper, humane finis to the poem. The resolution of torture was beautiful and it has become one of my favourite poems, because it had captured my heart and emotion and that emotion had made my words come alive (to me at least).
Emotion is a dangerous thing, as I've already mentioned. It's a fire of our bones. It surges from our inner-ness *raises eyebrow* and plunges through our veins like a barrage of firey horses; once it reaches our hearts we could very well be done for, but if we learn to harness those horses then we can seriously pump out some awesome sauce.
|Not my Image|
Signed with a flame,