The multiverse exists in art. We are creators alongside God when we write or draw or sing or dance and blink into existence a new world. Our experiences are lived and relived. We can never fully understand its beauty, nor can we grasp it but for an instant. Reality and imagination almost collide but never quite touch.
One of my favorite opening lines goes like this, “All that I write was once real life.”
It’s from Max Blecher’s last novel, The Shinning Burrow.
How do you turn real life into art? Into stories? How do you write about all the things you’d never have the courage to say out loud?
View original post 516 more words