Orson Welles died on his type writer doing what he loved. I can’t say I’m not a little jealous. (Writing Craft)

I read this article that kind of striked me as both funny and in a strange way made me wishful for a similar fate.

I don’t write on a type writer but the thought of living your life doing and perfecting and engaging in the verying thing that drives you to be you sounds like a wild ride.

I haven’t writen enough. I haven’t produced enough or ever will the volume of art that man did or at his level. I never will be at his level neither do I aspire to be.

Okay. That’s some bullshit at the end. I want to be the best writer and artist I can be. I want to have that persistent attitude to keep on working. To keep on consistently improving


I just want to write. I just want to able to do what I love and find purpose in doing. Simple to write for me now is to be me or at least a part of what makes me me.

Warm, Regards


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