We write to heighten our own awareness of life.We write to lure and enchant and console others.We write to serenade our lovers.We write to taste life twice,in the momentand in retrospection.We write, like Proust,to render all of it eternal,and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal.We write to be ableto transcend our life,to reach beyond it.We write to teach ourselves to speak with others,to record the journeyinto the labyrinth.We write to expand our worldwhen we feel strangled,or constricted, or lonely…When I don’t write, I feel my world shrinking.I feel I am in prison.I feel I lose my fire and my color.It should be a necessity,as the sea needs to heave,and I call it breathing.