I have never considered myself artistic despite my appreciation for art. I would never title myself as talented, despite my admiration of those that truly are. I find the interviews conducted on artists fascinating when they delve into the source(s) of inspiration. How a graffiti mural can stem from a famous quote or how a lyric can be birthed from watching a sunset is mildly captivating and ultimately astounding. It's also something I am trying to develop, especially as I grow as a writer and as a human. I won't lie about my inspiration.....there was this guy.......
That is either the beginning of a beautiful love story.....or the beginning of the end. If you know me personally, you know it's the latter.
I won't bore you with statistics or even take the time to look up facts on what qualities women seek and find most attractive in a partner, but I'll go out on a limb and say that some form of desiring fatherhood/loving children/embracing paternity is near, if not the top of most women's lists. Well, this guy was a great father. Loved his son wholly. He participated fully and was eternally committed to his boy. That's one thing I really dug about him.
I was on a train somewhere in the middle of Siberia. It was sometime around 3am and the symphony of snoring was barely audible over the racket of metal grinding the tracks as we barreled along. I grabbed my journal and lit it by the 1inch screen on my iPod. I loved traveling. I was on the adventure of a lifetime; taking the Trans-Siberian Railroad from Beijing to Moscow and then backpacking beyond. My feet hung over the end of my bunk, I hadn't showered in days, I was subsiding on packaged noodles, pickles and vodka. It was awesome. But, in that moment, at 29 years old, I wanted to be with him. Pretending to be a family; a parent to a boy and a partner to a man.
This is how the book first took life and I, in turn, began another adventure.
No comments:
Post a Comment