​Writing: a silent art

I am a writer, may be a story of many writers, I am an artist. 

I was standing on stage in a talent show. I said, i am an artist. He asked to show my art but i was silent. 

It was 3 months back when i heard about a talent show audition. All i had was a talent to write. But writing is a silent art. I couldn’t decide what i would do in a show where my art stands speechless. 

30 seconds and i was speechless because that was my art. So he asked to leave as i had nothing to do. He asked what do i do? And i said i am a writer. He was stunned that being a writer i am on stage of a talent show where i obviously won’t sit and i write.  

I thought why am i an artist? We all see a dog running and grabbing a bone for him and then running back. But it is a writer who sees a speechless being with a need to fulfil a pleasure, running for food and takes back to share with family and it is only a writer who can compare a life of a dog with a life of a man considering dog a better being. Now this is an art and nobody can let me get away on the stage. 

The darkness dawned and the smoke blowed, sound of a wind breezed londly and the audience shivered. 

I am a writer and that is my choice but not my art. My art is my imagination and this is what my real talent is. If i have no power of imagination then i cannot write. 

And then a dog barked, calling other dogs and a hound of dogs started running in a a group. They were all behind me. I was holding a packet of food. Rightly looking in the front hearing the noises at my back, and i turned. I raised my hand and asked them to stop. I said i will leave if you dont stop. I was not speaking… i was just moving my self and a voice recorded was talking. It said stop or no food and they all stood silently. The screen on the stage captured the moments of dogs and i mimicked. It was a 3d portrayal of what you call imagination vs reality as a talent show. 

A second later the scene is changed to a human group waiting for food. I stand their and says quite or no food. A man stabs me and i fall on the stage and the screen silents turns dark. 

That last thing that the screen says:

I have talent but not what you think it is. I am imagination but not what you see. 

I am an artist but just not what is recorded but also the way it is performed. 

 “Hold you imagination so you can fly, but       let it flow once you are flying high”   

                    An Author’s Style 

Imagination| Representation  | Diction is               what my art is. And a novel is                                    what it produces.