Okay, I’ll be honest. I’m forty-eight years old and if there is one thing, more than any other, which I have awakened to think about in some form or another, it’s writing. Not every morning, no. But a lot of them when I add it all up. I have always thought about writing. Not that I ever really thought about it as an actuality for me on any consistent basis until the last few years. And it’s not just when I wake up either. It’s there like a background tapestry in my mind. Always. Can’t think of a time when it wasn’t. Maybe in high school when I thought about being an artist. But I knew very quickly that although I had a little talent in that area, I would never be more than mediocre good. Just didn’t have the passion or the endurance for it. But I’ve been writing, or thinking about it forever. That should speak to me real loudly. It does. It scares me.
When I first began doing this blog, I intended to write about the things I had learned, and taught, about engaging in an ongoing writing regimen, the keeping of a journal. Back then, it was my intention to even occasionally share and post some of my own journal pages. That part, I never truly did, although I have written numerous articles here on writing and journal keeping.
Over the past month, I began thinking about doing a rather large and entailed writing project. Before I could begin, however, I needed to find and create a timeline for what I intended to write. So, I went back into the hard copies I have of my ‘morning pages’, only to discover that they didn’t go back far enough, even though I was certain I had been doing the pages longer than the time span represented in those hand written archives.
Eventually, I remembered that I had first started doing the pages on my Brothers Word Processor. Rummaged around and finally found the hard discs from that time period. Spent a great deal of time figuring out how to convert them into readable material, but was pleased to know I had what I needed, and began reading. Of course, I found a great deal more than I was looking for, I found a gold mine.
Discovered bits of poetry which I had jotted down, but never polished. I used one of them on another blog to complete a poetry prompt called a wordle. Perhaps, most importantly, I found the very beginnings of my own story as a serious writer. Discovered me, making notes about finding my own path for the next twenty years. The things that worked, and the ones that didn’t.
The above quote is taken directly from some of those beginning pages. I intend to continue reading, but also intend to share more of these bits and pieces. Many of them contain the first thoughts and ideas that became the articles on this blog. I believe they contain that first eye opening energy of the beginner, that one who has finally grasped a much wider concept than she has allowed herself in the past. It’s an energy I wish to share.
To that end, I will occasionally point you in the direction of some of those earlier articles, written expressly for this blog, when it seems appropriate to do so. The first one of which may be found here: