Storytelling is something that is as old as man. Before written languages were developed and taught to the masses storytelling was the only way to pass down history. Why I seem to be obsessed with trying out storytelling is a mystery to me. That is what this post is all about.

As a little background for this post, I don’t really remember if my parents ever read me stories in my youth, but given their personalities I kinda doubt it. I have very few photos of my days growing up. One reason is because if my mother was not in them, she threw them away as unimportant. Another is because when she abandoned the family for greener pastures we couldn’t afford the luxury of taking pictures. Food and shelter was about the only priority in those days.

It seems as the days go by now, for everyday forward I lose memories of a beginning day. Maybe that is one of the underlying reasons for my fascination with storytelling. I just want to put some thoughts on paper before I lose them. Why? I have no heirs or anyone who would be interested in what I have to say. I don’t know if anyone other than myself will ever read them but that’s OK. I can fill my end years with anything I want, and it seems recording my early life stories is what I want at this point. I want to Have My Say about my time on this earth even if no one sees them.

I’m sure some of what I “remember” never actually happened, but instead it is what I wanted to happen. That fact is common knowledge about aging. And, that’s ok too. After all, my words will just be me telling stories…

I am going to be putting these stories on a new blog entitled My View Of The World. That way they may just last into perpetuity, to be discovered by whoever finds them. The blog will be about Story Telling of all venues as well as Abstract Realism in Pictures and words. In other words it will be about my creativity that has been trapped in an engineer’s body for too long. It’s time to let it escape.

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