Grist For The Mill

One of the most common questions writers get is:
Where do you get your ideas?
What inspires you to write?


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A friend of mine asked me this VERY question a few weeks ago.  For myself, ANYTHING can inspire me:
–A conversation overheard as in: Lunchtime Conversations
–Something I read as in my Books category
–Even a conversation with a friend as can be seen from this VERY column.


Usually if I use a conversation I’ve overheard or one I have with a friend I will mask the person, either I won’t mention them by name or I will create a false name.  The ONLY time I have used someone’s real name is when I refer to them at Wisdom and Life as in:
Google+ Mentions and Several columns in Friendships.


In one case a street name in Madison Connecticut inspired me to write a short story that is in my eBook:
Random Acts: Stories of Redemption


There is no clear answer to what inspires an artist to create, whether that artist is a painter, a writer, a photographer.  Anything and everything can be grist for the mill.  I think it’s one of the reasons some artists find the question challenging.  It’s almost like asking them why do you breathe?  Being an artist is who we are and we can no more turn off the flow of inspiration then we can stop our breath.  Just like being a writer, myself, I simply cannot turn off the editor in my head when reading.  A writer is who I am, and my ears and eyes are always scanning my environment whether I want to or not.  I may not be consciously aware of my scanning, but when it comes time to put my fingers to the keys on my computer, my mind drifts back to my day.  And with Wisdom and Life I’ve said it before and I will repeat it now:
What I write at this blog is I’m CONVINCED divinely inspired.  I may be tapping the keys, but the words are emanating from the somewhere else.  Perhaps The Akashic Record.  Perhaps from the Divine.


Be Happy!  Be Well!  Be Positive!
Blessings to you.



Once you realize that life is eternal,
That our souls our eternal,
That we return to light and physical over and over;


We then lose all our distress
We then lose all our fear of dying.  For there truly is no end.



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