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Playing with Words
What writing is like sometimes
Playing with Words
I like playing with words. I like stretching them out like Silly Putty, molding them like Play-Doh, and assembling them into new formations like Legos.
Words are literary toys to toy with. I can make them dance like marionettes, line them up like dominoes, or turn them for a surprise — not unlike a jack-in-the-box.
Words make amusing playthings. They are lock, key, and door — question, reason, and answer. Writing is like solving an evolving puzzle. The permutations are multifaceted and infinite. No piece is wrong.
Words are an engaging activity. Instead of paints and crayons, I craft images with text and punctuation. Writing can be a game, a daydream, an awakening, or a labor of love. Words can be sharp, translucent, succulent, or soft.
Some wear masks and costumes; I play dress up with words. They can be witty, tender, or severe. They can act on behalf of thought, love, hurt, or anger.
Some words are comforting companions. I hug them close and often like a favorite teddy bear. I played with Barbie dolls when I was younger, but I also wrote plays for them.
Words are the building blocks of my mind — helping me construct and deconstruct life. Bridging the…
