Hey everyone!
Time for a more personal styled update again. I realise I've been pretty scares...or is it just that I feel like I have been? I don't seem to be able to tell...The thing is I've had a lot going on. Well, the kind of lot that feels like a lot but doesn't look like a lot. The kind of lot that I have the most issue with dealing...
I have been writing, FINALLY finding my author voice again, making sacrifices to do that I'm not happy about but doing it all the same. It has been a dream feeling that voice inside me ignite again. A voice I quieted literally for years, a voice I made promises to so that it would stop scratching at the walls, desperate to get out...to escape. A voice I fed with the milk of poetry to satiate it so that it would not over come me...
I am talking about being a novelist.
I had to put that part of myself, a part that is as big a part of me as waking up in the morning, away while I worked on a very rigid first degree that focused on learning and pedagogy. I don't regret a moment of my BA studies, it has also fed an important part of me, the capable educator part. I did need and will need that moving forward. However, at some point that voice trusted me and changed it's shout to a whisper and then pretty much went silent.
It trusted me when I said to wait, that I would be back to collect it. So quiet in fact that when I did return to pick things up where we left of...I couldn't find it. I searched, I wrote but something was always missing....I was always searching to find that part of myself I put away. You know that feeling you get when you hide something away in a safe place then forgot where you put it? That is what it felt like to me.
According to what I would write I would stumble and fall over my unique author voice. I'd exclaim in delighted surprise, oh! there you are! I've found you! Thank God! Hugging it tight, I would rejoice only to find it gone again when I released my grip. As if all I'd held on to was a sliver of it, a mist wafted in my direction...
I guess my writing voice had decided to make me work to find it again after leaving it for so long. Any writer will tell you that the muse can be a cruel, fickle, generous thing at any given moment.
I worked though because this need to write is something I was born with I truly believe and I would spend the rest of my life chasing it I know....
Well, I seemed to have stumbled upon it again and we've started our love affair anew.. .again. This looks like nights of loosing track of time because I have been writing. This means thinking about how my plot line will end as I sit at my desk at work. This looks like giggling into my phone screen as I read my words aloud. This means sharing my work and listening to feedback. This means editing and editing and editing and rewriting. This means randomly hearing a song and finally understand a character's motivation as clear as if I'd been given glasses that worked for the first time!
It also means as an old friend says 'running fast but going slow' because while words pour out of me as blood sweat and tears on page it will be a while before they are birthed into the public sphere.
So, I'm around....and I'm writing, a lot.
Also, my health isn't great but I'm alive and I'm working towards staying happy while I rectify that situation in a country where things move very slowly. So...you know...yay.
I'm also reacquainting myself with the reality that I think very differently than most and being okay with that in the face of so very much opposition.
So...yeah, that's whatssup. Oh! an update of my summer coming soon!
Peace. Love. Self Evaluation and Good Health
