I started writing poetry when i was a depressed and repressed teenager. It gave me an avenue to express not only the dark wanderings of my mind, but also the light that was revealed to me in nature.
As an adult, divorce threw me back into working through the meaning i was giving to my world with words. My first teacher here in the United States reminds me i introduced myself by announcing how “prophetic” my work was. I didn’t realize I was waving a red flag in front of myself….he remembers me as master of abstraction, and was constantly reminding me to use concrete images in my work.
So i grappled with this in my poetry for a very long time. Perhaps i still do…
Then one morning stumbling in socked feet down the corridor of ward 6North of the Childrens Hospital, as i had done for what seemed too many weeks, and yet was still only young in the treatment of leukemia in one of my daughters, i got the idea to write a book, a memoir. And so i started writing prose.
My story was to be about living inside a divorced relationship and caring jointly for a child with a life threatening disease, what it meant for me and for all of us including her twin sister and older brother. The illness and treatments shook the foundation on which my divorce, then four years old, had settled.
It was obvious to me that I needed to return to the water to find meaning and comfort,…to ‘walk’ in my own way, in the footsteps of Thoreau, confronting ‘only the essential facts of life, and see if (I) could not learn what it had to teach’.**
I try to focus my blog mostly on my own life, as I am aware that the lives of teenagers become their own, and to reveal too much too soon may not be politic.
My hope is that by the time my book is ready for the public eye, this history will be behind us enough that this will not have to be the case. But for the present i hope you enjoy my writing as it is, sometimes creative in its word choice, placement and use, sometimes reflective of more universal themes, and often reflective of my own “monkey mind.”
**Henry David Thoreau…Walden; Where I Lived, and What I Lived For.