A Play At the Storyteller
Over the last week, I have been considering the direction of this blog. I still want to explore the depths of knowledge on the subject of religious history and political thinking. I have much to say still in those arenas, but I think that to keep them fresh that I should occasionally drop in a topic of my nerdy side. Most of the time, I take on topics that seem so serious. It is my dream to try to connect the thoughts of the human race back to the same source. We are all humans after all.
So, let’s turn to my nerdy side. It is the tendency of the young to stand at the first years of adulthood with the idea that they have all the answers and all the energy to change the world. They look to make these changes based on their own thoughts of how the world really should be run. Such dreams are had, but soon the world wakes them up to the reality. My question is what happens when they avoid reality and never wake from this dream. I imagine that these are the people who find a way to make great leaps forward for mankind. They do not listen to the world and find a way to see their dreams come true.
My dreams as a young adult were to have a simple thing. All I wanted was respect. I did not demand it, but I wanted to earn it from my peers, colleagues, and acquaintances. So, I set off on my journey. It was a quest that I felt would be very difficult but not so out of reach. Reality hit me in the face, so I had to find another route. I needed to outsmart and outmaneuver reality. I set my sights on the idea that I would find a way to write a story that was worthy of reading.
I found the creative spark early. As a boy and teenager, I studied the techniques of oil painting and drawing. Most of my sketches were portraits and still lifes and the oils were landscapes. My teacher was an older lady who traded my help with making frames and cleaning the studio for the lessons. My artistic energies were satisfied each Saturday afternoon. I wanted to create the best art that I could. I wanted to make her proud. The one thing that all this taught me was that I was capable of creative thinking.
As life in high school became busy, the Saturday afternoons were not available and I left the studio. I visited on occasion, but mostly, I stopped it for a few years. However, I filled my creative time with the art of telling stories for my friends. I could entertain them with various stories during our role playing. I had the chance to tell the tales, create the characters, and bring them all an understanding of the heroic saga.
Once the lazy days of the teen years were gone, I had to decide what to do with my life. I took the path that seemed right. The logical path of using my math and science skills was laid out before me. I learned that my creative energies were set to the side and were not needed. It was difficult, but I did not let it perish.
I set forth to write my stories. I wanted to tell the tales of my heroes and villains. I wanted to challenge the story to have a message and show that I could do it. In that time, I have tried various genres and attempted to complete numerous stories. To this day, I have yet to completely finish a story.
Yet, I don’t consider any of this to be a failure. I am an artist at heart and the artwork is never complete. I feel the stories are working still and soon I hope to bring some to a conclusion. Even if I have to spend another twenty years working on it, I will conclude the story. The saga never ends for the journey is the true ingredient.