The longer answer is messier, and perhaps not even an answer. But it has something to do with loving books and writing, scribbling and illustrating my own little books before I even knew how to write. It has something to do with gathering things, more or less meaningful, over many years, and then starting to realise that those things are, in fact, mostly - just things. It has something to do with becoming a single parent and struggling to keep up with it all, and still trying to be and do everything, even though I am not Superwoman. It has something to do with seeing more and more clearly, every week, every day, that my child is something other than everyone expected. And slowly realising that I have to be someone else, or something more, than I had planned.Writing is a way of figuring out what we are thinking, as is talking to others with a different perspective. Want to talk and get to know each other a little more? I'd love to hear from you!
Ane--you have managed to write this piece in a tone that is straight from the heart, but instead of resorting to "gushiness," you have crafted a feeling that is both vulnerable and raw-boned. As a fellow single mom, a fellow declutterer you have touched me. As a reader and as someone who dreams of writing, I want to know more. PS: Love the photo!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much! You touched me too, now. Reading your description of my writing means a lot to me, I will try to keep it up! :)
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