Tag Archives: solitude

Solitude of Writing

I find myself jealous of musicians and singers who perform for audiences. Those who from a distance don’t seem so filled with solitude. The solitude of a writer. I live in inside my head. It’s a place of sheer loneliness. All of these thoughts that are in my head yet are never shared in sounds. Instead, they are shared with an inanimate object. If I didn’t where would the writing come from?

It’s a craft I love so deeply, yet hurt from all at once. I find myself lost in thought even with others around. How to frame a sentence? What would I write on any given topic? Or how would I edit a piece of writing? There is never a moment I’m not thinking of words. There are those who will not understand this. This only builds on that solitude. How can you do this for pleasure? Isn’t it work?

It’s gut wrenching. Sometimes it’s as if my soul is the one being leaked onto the pages, not ink. But therein lies the beauty of it all. Whether people understand or not – it’s still there. That need is still there, and I thank God that it is. In all it’s solitude. I love it in every way possible, and I don’t want to think about life otherwise.

Solitude at the Museum


Sometimes you just need to lose yourself, feel new things, and get out of your usual day-to-day life. At times that is the best fix to get your creative juices flowing and fuel new ideas. A trip to the museum can be the cure, wandering the halls, soaking in the different galleries.

I used to be afraid of going places by myself. I don’t mean running errands or shopping, rather the movies, dinner or bars. Being the youngest in a rather large extended family, I always had someone to go places with and never felt the need to really branch out on my own. It sounds quite silly to me even typing this now that I do all of those things on my own. That confidence or really, not caring what others think, comes with age and experience and the only way to get that experience is pushing yourself out there. Going to museums by myself was one of ways I broke the ice when I was younger.

My latest solo trip was to the De Young Museum in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. The newest exhibit was a gallery of photographer Richard Diebenkorn’s photos from his time spent in Berkeley. I spent a few hours on a gloomy Sunday perusing the halls of that exhibit along with the others.

Did I get a few, “Oh she’s alone? What a pity!” looks? Sure, but trust me when I say it really doesn’t matter. When you’re secure with yourself, people’s opinions won’t matter – especially a strangers.

I left feeling so refreshed and inspired again. There’s something about seeing art, photos, writing or anything that the artist was passionate about, that gets my creativity flourishing once more.