Bleed

Ernest Hemingway apparently once said: “There is nothing to writing. You just sit at a typewriter and bleed.”
I have never read anything by Hemingway, and the only reason I know this quote is because I found it on an other blog, which I stumbled upon surfing around flickr. (And the blogger got it from an other blog as well, how’s that for original thought.)
But since I haven’t been actively writing in a very long time now, maybe I just have to sit at my keyboard and write all the silly things that pop up in my head. Put them on this blog. As an experiment.
Because I always think of things to write about, but I hardly ever write about them. I like words, but sometimes it’s hard to put stuff in them. (Still words and I are big friends.) And then I don’t try at all.
I should, though. At times I will want to say something, and fail. And at times I will find the right words, be they English or Dutch.

So I’m going to start bleeding. It might be ugly, it might be beautiful.

d20
A picture I really like, will write more later.

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