Friday, 15 July 2011

There is nothing to writing...

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. Ernest Hemingway



Yesterday for a work event I went to the summer exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts. It was good and interesting to see artists work. As a writer - you are an artist of sorts- sending your manuscript out is like standing in front of Simon Cowell on the X factor and singing your heart out only to be told you are no good. Sometimes you get a market even if you are no good- take the cheeky girls for instance. Art is similar - so subjective- I saw some amazing pieces and some that made me step back and say 'really? I mean Really??' 


I wont lie I dont understand much about art but I guess the premise is the same-you like it or you dont. 


It did however open my eyes - to a different perspective on the world. A coffin made of chicken bones is interesting. An iconic scene in London with a sea painted beneath it where people are enjoying themselves in crystal blue waters - you would never imagine it - but there it is all painted- someone did think about it. Artists must see everyday items through different lenses.


And I guess as authors we do that all the time - the way we see things - we see them differently because we may just want to write about them! 

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