There was this piece of writing I once heard, I don’t know how long ago, and I do not know who or where I heard it from. It could have been my best friend or it could have been a famous person speaking on the internet, but whoever’s mouth spoke it, or whoever’s fingers typed it, this piece of advice has always stuck with me.
They were likening any creative endeavour, be it writing poetry, photography, singing whatever, was like turning on a busted tap, or a faucet for those of you reading who have an international background different to mine. When you first turn on the tap, gunky water falls out. Then the water starts to run, and as it runs the water begins to run less brown and dirty – it begins to run a little clearer. And the water keeps running from this tap until, eventually, that water that was once brown and filled with gunk runs as clear as a mountain spring. The point being made that when one first begins to write, the work isn’t the best, but you keep writing and writing, until what is coming out of you is the greatest level you can achieve.
Now I’m not sure if the tap analogy pertains to every writer out there, but it’s a nice analogy so I’m using it.
It essentially boils down to “practice makes perfect”. Really, that can be applied to any art medium, or anything in any part of life that needs some skill to carry out. But I’m a writer, so that’s what I am taking the tap analogy to mean in this case.
So this is me, turning on that metaphorical tap, and waiting, with hope, for that clear, running water to cascade out.