I have always believed that art in any form is personal, close and owned completely by the creator or artist up until a second pair of eyes sees it or hears it.

Once the piece escapes from the confines of the artists’ hand, it does not belong to him anymore. Interpretation and then either ripping it into pieces or raining accolades is now beyond the realm of the artist/creator.

It’s gone. It belongs to everyone else except him. The seed however is still his to take home, the rest that’s built around it is what’s escaped.

So, when I fell upon these lines in Stephen King’s book – On Writing- it was sweet validation. That’s the whoel beauty of words. Interpretation is personal. Just like I made the following lines follow my own.

..Gould said something else that was interesting on the day I turned in my first two pieces: write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open. Your stuff starts out being just you, in other words, but then it goes out. Once you know what the story is and get it right – as right as you can, anyway – it belongs to anyone who wants to read it. Or criticize it. If you’re very lucky (this is my idea, not John Gould’s, but I believe he would have subscribed to the notion), more will want to do the former than the latter.

We all want to get lucky, but as they say Lady Luck favors a few, the rest will have to fend for themselves. Or trick the lady. Or go wash cars or something.

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