The Art of Observation as a Writer: Writing What You See.

 

The Writer’s Gift

Elliot often wondered if his way of seeing the world was a gift or a burden. It wasn’t easy to carry the weight of imagined lives, to see so much in every small gesture. But he also knew it was what made him a writer.

He understood that writing wasn’t just about words—it was about attention. The art of observation wasn’t merely looking at the world; it was noticing the details most people ignored and giving them meaning. It was a way of honoring life, in all its ordinary, messy beauty.

Every writer usually would start a write-up with a poetic line on endless array of metaphors that goes like this _

"The street was busy with its usual symphony of life...heels clicking on the pavement, the hiss of a bus stopping, snippets of conversations floating through the air".

But for Elliot Hayes, the world was something else entirely. It wasn’t just sound and motion; it was texture, color, and rhythm. To him, the street wasn’t bustling; it was whispering...alive with stories hidden beneath the ordinary.

Elliot had always observed the world differently. While others moved swiftly, their eyes fixed on phones or their destinations, his gaze lingered. He didn’t just see the woman in the red coat with a black umbrella at the walk way, he noticed how her gloved hands tightened around her umbrella as though holding onto something far more significant than a pair of brief comfort. He noticed the crumpled corner of a political campaign poster sticking out of the street wall and wondered if it'd stick longer if they applied a little more adhesive or that it has simply stayed long enough and needed to be relieved of its "duties".

Every detail Elliot observed felt like a thread, and his mind instinctively wove them into stories.

---

That afternoon, Elliot walked into his usual corner table at a dimly lit café. He liked it here, half hidden...an introvert’s instinct, but with a perfect view of the room. His notebook lay open, the pages already filled with unfinished sentences and sketches of his imagination. 

Today, his focus landed on a man sitting by the window...a man shadowed by his hat, assumingly in his 50s, had a neutral expression and probably could have been there few hours before Elliot walked in. The man’s hands was rested on the table, palms open, as though he were holding something invisible. His lips moved slightly, mouthing words Elliot couldn’t hear.

“Is he talking to someone who isn’t there?,” Elliot muttered under his breath, jotting down the observation. Was it grief? A memory? Or perhaps, a prayer? or is he simply thinking aloud?...He didn't have an answer. 

Nearby, a young woman clutched her phone tightly, her fingers shaking. Her back was rigid, but her eyes darted toward the door every few seconds. She didn’t drink the coffee in front of her, but her spoon stirred it absent mindedly, creating small whirlpools in the creamy surface. Elliot guessed she was waiting for someone—someone she wasn’t sure would come.

And then there was the bartender behind the counter, who wiped the same spot over and over on the countertop, staring blankly at the clock. Elliot noticed the slight tremble in his jaw and the faint redness in his eyes. Perhaps his thoughts were far away, either replaying an argument he’d had that morning or a worry he just couldn’t shake off. "I was tempted to ask"...

Elliot writes furiously, his mind filling in the gaps that reality left blank.

---

For Elliot, observation was more than just watching—it was listening to the silences, sensing the unspoken, and piecing together the stories others carried but never told. He wasn’t always right, of course. The woman steadily staring at the door might not be anxious about a meeting; she could just be cold. The man at the window might not be mourning someone—he might simply be rehearsing a speech. But for Elliot, accuracy wasn’t the point. The act of imagining, of creating, was what mattered.

He believed every person had layers of complexity hidden beneath their surface. It wasn’t enough to notice what they did; he sought to understand why. And when the world didn’t provide answers, he invented his own.

A Story Unfolds

Later that day, Elliot returned home to his small apartment. He spread his notes across the kitchen table, pages full of observations and possibilities. He began to write.

The man at the window became a retired militarily officer, revisiting the memory of his last official duty, haunted by the lonely days ahead of him . The young woman transformed into an aspiring artist, waiting for her estranged father to show up after years of absence. And the weary barista? he became an artist, who was simply thinking about how he wants a life far away from the clinking of coffee cups.

These were the figment of his imagination. 

By evening, Elliot had written their stories into existence. The café was no longer just a room filled with strangers...it was a universe of lives, connected by invisible threads of emotion, memory, and longing.

How Nature Inspires My Writing: A Personal Journey.

There’s something magical about nature that has always been a source of inspiration for my writing. As a quiet observer, I find myself drawn to the delicate beauty of the world around me, whether it's the tireless honking of moving cars or the rhythmic crash of wind rustling the leaves of trees, or the gentle flicker of light as the sun sets. It’s like the world outside has a way of speaking to me in ways words never could, and it’s that connection I want to share with you today.

Taking a quiet walk.

It’s not always easy to make space for nature in a busy world, but when I do, it always rewards me. I’ve learned that stepping outside for even just a few moments can open up a floodgate of creativity...It works like magic. The stillness of nature offers a refreshing contrast to the noise of everyday life, allowing me to tap into a deeper part of myself. Whether I’m walking through a park or simply sitting on a window with a view of the sky, nature has an uncanny way of quieting my mind and helping me focus.

A World threaded with deeper meanings

I’ve always been fascinated by how nature provides an endless array of mystery for the writing process. Seasons change, much like the phases of a story. A tree that endures harsh winters and blossoms in spring is much like a character who grows through adversity. Even the smallest details...the way sunlight shades its rays here and the next minute there, or how clouds gather before a storm—can serve as powerful symbols. Nature’s richness offers an abundance of material for a writer and when I find myself stuck, a simple walk or moment of observation often sparks new ideas or fresh perspectives.

Finding Depth in Silence

In nature, silence isn’t emptiness. It’s full of life and meaning. I’ve learned to embrace silence in my writing, too. It doesn't always have to be loud. Just as the quietude of a forest doesn’t mean it’s devoid of movement, the pauses in my writing allow for reflection, for the reader to breathe and consider the weight of a moment. The stillness of nature teaches me that silence isn’t an absence, but an invitation to listen closely, to both the world around me and the voice within.

Connection to My Inner Self

Nature has a way of stripping away the unnecessary and reminding me of what truly matters. It’s in these moments of solitude, surrounded by furniture in my house or the walls of my bedroom that I reconnect with my inner self. Writing, for me, is often about diving deep into that connection. It encourages me to embrace vulnerability, to write with authenticity and truth, knowing that the beauty of nature doesn’t demand perfection but simply exists as it is.

The Flow of Words

One of the most incredible things I’ve noticed is how, when I’m immersed in nature, words seem to flow effortlessly. It’s as if the natural world unlocks a creative reservoir within me. The rhythm of the world around me, the gentle breeze, the sound of birds, the craving sounds of lizards...mimics the rhythm of my thoughts, and suddenly the sentences form more easily. Writing becomes less of a struggle and more of a dance, a fluid exchange between my mind and the world that inspires it.

A Reminder of Life’s Impermanence

Nature constantly reminds me of the impermanence of life, something I often explore in my writing. The seasons turn, flowers bloom and wither, rivers flow and erode. Nothing stays the same forever. Nothing! This ever-changing cycle mirrors the themes of transformation, loss, and renewal that I often weave into my work. Just as nature adapts and evolves, so too do the stories and characters I create.

Bringing Nature to the Page

Ultimately, what nature gives me is a sense of groundedness and perspective. It’s easy to get lost in the distractions of daily life, but when I immerse myself in nature, I find that I can connect with the deeper, more profound elements of existence. Writing, like nature, becomes a reflection of this—an ongoing exploration of beauty, change, and resilience. My goal as a writer is to bring that sense of wonder and understanding to the page, allowing readers to feel the same connection I experience when I step outside.

Conclusion: A Lifelong Inspiration

As I reflect on my journey as a writer, I realize that nature is not just a source of inspiration; it is a constant partner in my creative process. It has shown me that inspiration is everywhere, often found in the most simple, fleeting moments, waiting to be noticed and captured.

Embracing Curiosity Over Perfection: Lessons from a Writer’s Life.

In the world of writing, perfection often feels like the ultimate goal. Writers meticulously craft sentences, scrutinize every word, and obsess over structure—all in pursuit of a flawless piece. But what if perfection isn’t the path to meaningful work? What if curiosity, not flawlessness, is the secret to growth and creativity?

As a writer navigating this delicate balance, I’ve discovered that embracing curiosity over perfection not only liberates creativity but also opens doors to unexpected insights. Here’s what I’ve learned along the way.

1. Curiosity Creates Momentum, Perfection Stops It

Perfection demands certainty, while curiosity thrives on questions. When writing, I’ve found that asking, “What if?” or “Why does this matter?” sparks new ideas and keeps me moving forward. Perfection, on the other hand, tends to paralyze.

A curious writer sees drafts as experiments just like an Artist, not final products. This mindset removes the pressure of “getting it right” and allows exploration to take center stage. Remember, masterpieces are rarely born on the first try. Yep!

2. Mistakes are a Writer’s Best Teacher

Perfectionism treats mistakes as failures. Curiosity views them as opportunities. As a writer, I’ve learned more from clumsy sentences and weak plots than I ever have from polished lines.

Mistakes expose gaps in understanding, reveal creative blind spots, and challenge us to improve. Instead of fearing them, embrace them. Ask, “What can this teach me?” Writing becomes far more rewarding when it’s about growth, not just results.

3. Curiosity Opens New Doors to Inspiration

When you trade perfection for curiosity, you give yourself permission to explore unfamiliar paths. Writers often get stuck chasing “ideal” ideas or formats, but curiosity pushes us to experiment.

Some of my most surprising breakthroughs came from trying something unconventional: a different writing style, an unplanned topic, or even a fanciful comparison. "Inspiration often hides where you least expect it—curiosity is the compass that finds it".

4. Perfection Hinders Authenticity

The pressure to perfect every word can strip away authenticity. Curiosity, however, encourages you to lean into your unique voice, quirks and all.

Readers don’t connect with perfection; they connect with honesty. Allow your curiosity to guide you into vulnerable, raw, and even imperfect territory. These moments of truth often resonate the most with your audience.

5. Writing is a Journey, Not a Destination

Curiosity shifts the focus from the finished product to the process itself. Instead of obsessing over when your work will be “good enough,” you learn to enjoy the act of writing.

This mindset transforms frustration into fulfillment. Each sentence, even an imperfect one, becomes a step in your journey as a writer.

How to Embrace Curiosity in Your Writing Practice

1. Ask Questions: Before and during your writing, ask open-ended questions like, “What am I trying to uncover?” or “Why does this story matter?”

2. Write First, Edit Later: Focus on getting ideas down before worrying about polish. Let your curiosity flow freely in the draft stage.

3. Explore New Formats: Try poetry, journaling, or even stream-of-consciousness writing. Step out of your comfort zone.

4. Read Widely: Curious writers are curious readers. Read genres and authors outside your usual preferences to spark new ideas.

5. Celebrate Imperfection: Accept that no piece of writing is ever truly “finished.” Instead, recognize the value in progress and growth.

My Two Cents

As writers, it’s tempting to hold our work to impossible standards. But by embracing curiosity over perfection, we free ourselves to explore, experiment, and evolve.

Writing becomes less about achieving a flawless piece and more about discovering the joy in the process—something far more meaningful.

So, the next time you find yourself stuck or paralyzed by perfection, pause. Ask yourself, “What am I curious about?” You might just find that curiosity leads you exactly where you need to go.