A few words

I feel I am holding something back from you. All my primary-school years I wanted to be an artist. All my secondary-school years I wanted to be a writer. All my adult years I've thought the writer in me was a dream, and I had to live in reality.

This year I've been dreaming. Who says your work has to be a 9-5 that pays the bills and slowly drips on the fizzling-out fire of your hopes? That work stays in one box, and your talent, your joys and interests go in another? I want to have a vocation. I want to find the things I love to do, get better at them, and then find a way for them to sustain me through life - and not just financially.

So I ought to tell you that when I write this blog I'm letting the writer out of me. She's a little rusty. She's a little war-torn. But she's a dreamer.

Post-script: I have to say though, I read quite a lot of other blogs (see list, right), and they're all talented word-smiths. The writers field is as crowded as the flower meadows at this time of year, and I'm not sure if I'll ever grow tall enough to show my head at the height these other blogs reach. Still, I have to be true to myself and so I'm going to keep typing and see where it takes me.

Photo courtesy of my lovely brother