So here I am … finally, and on such on a wonderful date. The tenth anniversary of my beloved New York’s disaster. I am in North Texas, many miles away but I can feel the spirits in the air and all around. What monumental energy of feeling and sacred essence; upon that tiny piece of island, sitting on rock. Solid rock. My home town, my jar of memories full of childhood, high school, young love and so much more.
I think it has taken me all this time, and the accomplishment of so many other attractions that are now, perhaps in hindsight, distractions, from what I really love to do … write. There is something magical about writing for me. For starters, it seems so easy. Now watch me flub. No really, it just flows. It flows so easily, at times I think it is someone else, not me, that is writing. Pretty words, fine and lovely words, strung together in a row, or rows that make lovely images for all to read. The voices, the smells, the feelings and textures are all there as well. I look at the words and paragraphs and begin to smile as I think, did I do that? No matter how good you think you have written you still fret. It is my job to fret. Writing is my joy, fretting is my job. For what, I say… for what do you fret. They always love what you write and what you say.
I go to bed and as soon as my heels hit the coolness of the sheets, I pop back up to write something else, lest I forget by tomorrow’s day. That is when I became what I knew I could be – a writer… when I decided, no, when I committed to get up and write what went through my head, no matter how late, how tired or unreasonable. A writer has to write when it flows because to think you will remember is to play with fire. How many wonderful passages I have lost for thinking, “oh tomorrow I will write this done, yes I will remember,” and then I don’t.
So welcome to my world, we will meet between the words and paragraphs that create the images and experiences that will bond us in this way, to forge an alliance. So welcome me, please, into your world. That I may enter with my words and stories and opinions and wills. Be kind and gentle with your words, but don’t hold back… I promise to deliver, whether you like it or not.
Today I take my first, my baby steps, open the curtains, peek out and hand you my page. Tomorrow I will come again and write again. Soon, it will all pull together – as it always does.
Welcome me, Welcome to You, Welcome to Us. An old world renewed.
My Word My Ink Well, Bev