In daydreams I speak in a low register. My thoughts are succinctly expressed in a disarmingly casual style. Well-modulated breathing project and protect my words as spoken. Depending on the day, as the listener draws forward, a slight drawl is detected.
That voice in my head is not the voice I hear when I speak. Words alight and float, just out of my reach, as I attempt to lasso them into sentences and phrases.
The youngest of five, in a family of projectors, I struggled for airtime. I line words into military-like formation before speaking, then lob them, as if from a cannon, directly at my target (audience.)
Writing is where I take deep breaths and my thoughts ride steadily on the exhale. In grace & accented with a slight drawl.
c.buck columna is a writer taking in the view from the southwest corner of the cave creek quadrangle, south of the carefree highway, and a journeyman heading to all points west of the 100th meridian.