*staggers over and takes a seat on a tall stool, takes a breath and begins*
"In my head there is me. Alone. My thoughts, there for free roam. Grazing. But never lingering too long. This doesn't mean that i have a short attention span. I just develope my thoughts, transforming them from one image to another, ever evolving.
I find myself thinking 'what if'? Then i continue to write, my mind my paper and quill. When i write i try to focus these thoughts, to coax forward these snip-bits of thoughts and sculpt away until i've achieved my David.
When i write, time is my biggest advisary. Precious time. My heart aches to write only to have time snatch away what precious little i have to mold."
*Glances up at you quizzically*
"Well, what about you?"