An ant or two...

For writers, that green shore is a pretty place, a sweet place to hang out. We know its gentle flora and fauna, its bobwhite and dragonflies, its buttercups and soft grass. It is a safe place. The worst that can happen there is an ant or two in the potato salad.

Those who rest on the shore may write some lovely poems, some clever tales, some suitable-for-the-grandchildren recollections. However, it is only by jumping into the deep that we may (sometimes) create fresh, surprising, or profound writing. We may pass seaweed strangely blossoming underwater on our way down; we may encounter an ill-tempered anaconda powerful enough to crush a deer; we may discover odd creations such as the dogong with its front limbs like arms and, at the other end, not legs but a tail. We will find strange beauty, danger, and bizarre connections.

In the depths we may find squid making ink clouds around themselves or white eyeless fish, for some memories want to hide and some images want to be blind.

It is only by jumping into the murky and the unknown that we stand a chance of discovering our truths.
--Meg files. P. 27