In order to
do what you do, you need to walk. Walking is what brings the words to
you, what allows you to hear the rhythms of the words as you write them
in your head. One foot forward, and then the other foot forward, the
double drumbeat of your heart. Two eyes, two ears, two arms, two legs,
two feet. This, and then that. That, and then this. Writing begins in
the body, it is the music of the body, and even if the words have
meaning, can sometimes have meaning, the music of the words is where the
meanings begin. You sit at your desk in order to write down the words,
but in your head you are still walking, and what you hear is the rhythm
of your heart, the beating of your heart.
Paul Auster, Winter logbook