I saw a traveller once

I love sketching , not much writing. I saw a traveller once, sitting at our local café, normally they would go for a bit high end restaurant with coffee of many names’. This traveler sat at our local café and only order black coffee – the only coffee we normally had. He sat and begin writing on postcard. He wrote long and many things. Once a while he look up, reading a sentence in invisible board in front of him. I wonder what he wrote about . He wrote many things , I’m sure of it. He must have been good friend with Times. 

I learn the language of sketching . In sketching it’s very much like dancing. Need to know every step and moves , with discipline and routine. Always moves to fill the space. Dance are variable, yet the basic are always the same, always follow rhythm of beat. Sometime beats are very silence. When we are in harmony with beat, all go with flow. Others will see flow are soul. It moves only we know how. Sketching are much alike dancing. 

I’m still learning about the language of writing. I know it needed to be balance with lines. The weight of pen or pensel needed to merge with our skin , bones veins and blood. As if the singular object are another limb so able to walk the lines together in harmony. Writing are more alike practice a sport. To keep the straight lines while read our brains at the same time. Writing don’t have a beat, but it still have flow. The harmony of see the wording and running the lines are flow in writing. 

Dancing and writing needed to practice – not finding a perfection but balance.
All stories are same, differ in soul that tell it.
I hope i able to write as the traveler I once meet. He wrote so well even in postcards. I hope I begin to see Times as kind companion , that allow me to write something kind and good.