The Dance of the Pen

The Dance of the Pen

When I write with pen to paper, I do it outside. The air pulses with life—the sharp horn of a frustrated driver, the soft chirping of a bird, the wind chimes kissed by a gentle breeze that also brushes my cheek. This environment becomes part of the rhythm, guiding the...
A Whisper to the Soul

A Whisper to the Soul

The quiet whispers come when I’m most at peace. I’ve heard them in the early morning stillness, my wife and son breathing softly in sleep, or on a January evening, bundled against the cold, wandering through familiar streets. They find me in the forest, where even the...
The Blank Page as a Mirror

The Blank Page as a Mirror

A blank page is like the landscape in my mind when I grip the pen and close my eyes. In that moment, I often feel lost. To ground myself, I create a background—a reflection of my mood. Today, it’s a desert: a distant horizon, a setting sun moving too quickly, leaving...