The beginning is the most important part of the work – Plato
I have always written. I used to carry a notebook around, Harriet the Spy style. I noted everything I saw in the world.
I wrote poems. I wrote stories. I wrote the truth. And I wrote what I wished was the truth.
I had an example of the tough world of writing in my mother. Critics were plentiful and high paying work was inconsistent. I also didn’t think I had “it”.
So I lived a life where writing was a rare hobby, or something people asked me to do for them. I took a writing workshop once where the woman running it told me that I needed to write. She was right, but the fear of not being good at something I loved was too intimidating.
At 51, I returned to university to complete a degree I’d started 34 years earlier and it came crashing back to me that I writing truly was the thing which allowed me to think, to feel, to heal, to live.
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you – M. Angelou
A while back, I changed the title of this blog from (mom)ents – all about photography – to writing in the (mom)ent to acknowledge my first creative love, writing, and how I would work hard to convey what I was thinking, feeling, and living in the moment. And hopefully will do all those things fearlessly – but old habits, they do die so hard.
Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly – Kafka
so, here goes: welcome to writing in the (mom)ent.