Greetings from Andalusia!
This blog started as a way to vent a bit of mother frustration in a way that would make me laugh at my own worries, but it’s quickly evolved into a means of self-therapy. In the course of these three years I’ve become a mother for the second time, became separated and then divorced, married again, had another baby, moved a half a dozen times, planted a good few plants, written a load of poems, read not nearly as much as I’d liked to, gotten slightly closer to finishing my novel (here’s hoping it won’t take another decade to finish), and wrote enough songs to make a new album, which I’ll do as soon as I can get a crowdfunding campaign together.
There is so much loneliness in a writer’s working life; you have to put up with famously antisocial conditions (even though you are writing, usually, about humans, or at least some metaphor for them); the traditional publishing route makes it seems daunting at best for novices, and even a lot of seasoned writers; and there isn’t a stage you can step up onto and feel your audience looking you back in the eye. Hopefully not booing.
So I applaud all that a blog can offer. It has taken my nerdiness and extended its boundaries out beyond the limits of geography and my own vanity. ‘Sharing’, a word whose meaning has been dulled by the impersonality of technology, regains some of its former sense when what you’re sharing is your actual experiences, feelings, observations, stories, poems.
I’ve met some amazing and beautiful souls through this virtual portal. Most of all, this is a spilling of the treasure carried in my own chest, as it is carried in everyone’s. Whether or not the gold is real…well, you’ll have to bite it and see.