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Friday, February 4, 2011

Andrew Peterson

Andrew Peterson writes here about writing. Be sure and read the whole post.

Here is my favorite part I am convinced that poets are toddlers in a cathedral, slobbering on wooden blocks and piling them up in the light of the stained glass. We can hardly make anything beautiful that wasn’t beautiful in the first place. We aren’t writers, but gleeful rearrangers of words whose meanings we can’t begin to know. When we manage to make something pretty, it’s only so because we are ourselves a flourish on a greater canvas.

1 comment:

Brianna and Lydia said...

Thanks for sharing this, Mrs. M. 'Twas delightful to read.


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