Pen of Life Suppose someone gave you a pen - a sealed, solid-colored pen.
You couldn't see how much ink it had. It might run dry after the first few
tentative words or last just long enough to create a
masterpiece (or several) that would last forever and make a difference in the
scheme of things. You don't know before you begin. Under the rules of the game, you really never know. You have to take a chance!
And of what would you write: Of love? Hate? Fun?
Misery? Life? Death? Nothing? Everything? Would you write to please just yourself? Or others? Or yourself by writing for others? Would your strokes be tremblingly
timid or
brilliantly bold? Fancy with a
flourish or
plain? Would you even write? Once you have the pen, no rule says you have to write. Would you
sketch?
Scribble ?
Doodle or draw? Would you stay in or on the lines, or see no lines at all, even if they were there? Or are they?
There's a lot to think about here, isn't there?
Now, suppose someone gave you a life...
