Judith writes about writing... again

On Friday, I had a break in the SUB, and so I sat down with my notebook and began to write for my Nonfiction Writing final portfolio.  I did not really know what I was going to write.

All I knew, in fact, was that at that moment, I really wanted to go to the beach.

I still do.

It became this story - which is getting longer every time I visit it - of my love for the sea.  It became the tale of how I have never been landlocked, of how both of my grandfather's appreciated the coast, of how I am terrified of fish yet think the harsh rhythm-less timpani of waves is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

I have not been writing as much as I ought to have been in recent years.  I used to sit down and write nearly every day, every time I felt like it.  Then high school happened - and since then, I have had to make a conscious effort to get the words out of me, where it used to come so naturally to me.  Even doing National Novel Writing Month in November was still an effort and a struggle.  So, I appreciate moments like Friday, and this afternoon, and last night at one in the morning as I was convincing myself to go to bed, when a story will just not leave me alone, and where I cannot, as hard as I try, push it away.

Moments like those make me wonder if maybe I am a writer, after all.