As a creative writer, I sometimes feel like I live in an ivory tower of my own making. While the world rushes by, I sit quietly, staring at a blank page, chasing meanings in the flutter of a leaf, or in the sound of rain tapping against the window. To others, it may look like isolation, even detachment. But within this solitude, entire worlds are born; characters breathe, stories take shape, and emotions find a voice.
The ivory tower of a writer is not made of stone or ivory, but of silence, imagination, and a mind that refuses to let the ordinary pass by unnoticed. It is both a blessing and a burden: a safe space where creativity thrives, yet a lonely place where people sometimes forget you exist. Still, it is from this tower that art descends to the world, reminding everyone that even in isolation, meaning can be made.
Thanks for reading @ritaetim