Wiggins' Words

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Typewriters

1955 Smith-Corona Skyriter

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1977 Smith-Corona Galaxie Twelve XII

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It is strange how summer can be both a reset setting and a site for launching. Days slowly creep on by without your permission. When we want them to stay longer, we make up for them with fleeting, small moments that last as long as memory has space for them. It got me thinking, more than usual, that no day is wasted if you decided to spend it. There are no zero days when you can count on the fact that you were given yesterday, today, and hopefully tomorrow. The sun and moon will not wait for you, so make them chase you instead. Suspend your disbelief. P.S. – I have a new opportunity in the works that will foster charity and posterity in the form of a sweepstakes! Stay tuned for my next post!
Rise, roll, return, repeat, like water.
Understand your values before your vices understand you. What goes on in your mind either will be a disservice to your head and body or a limitless point of preparation. Pressure is part of the process and there is reason enough to keep going despite what anyone else thinks or says, despite the doubts that belong to you or others. Care a lot for what matters because what does not matter is a loan. You pay it off by caring less while reclaiming humility, selflessness, and eventually who you are meant to be.
Writing is one of my gifts that takes the least amount of effort and gives the best of me. A year ago, I had made my process a series of excuses that I convinced myself to be creative choices. Waiting to be inspired cannot be deemed procrastination or motivation. Although there are moments of marination, the artist must be able to write, even if it is across the grey matter of the mind. What saved my thoughts and writing was the typewriter. Unobtrusive, nonjudgmental, completely self-sufficient. This Typewriter Day, I am reminded of the technological leaps and bounds we have come so far from. Though digital distractions and addictions are still being resisted, I take comfort in this fact. We do not just service the machine, the machine services us. Photo credit: @brycewiggins
Summer's sweet, sultry sadness.
My father does not mind the attention, especially when it's a photo opportunity. Usually he's the one behind the camera, making sure we get our shots, that we listen twice as much as we talk, and remember to keep faith while we work towards our best. I may not always agree with you or take your advice, but thank you for giving it, Dad.

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