Voyage - The Onset

For the longest time I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t remember my life before my kids were born. I couldn’t remember details of my childhood.

That life had been cut up and wrapped like parcels in thick white paper and stacked in rooms.

I am approaching my seventh decade.

I take photos of everyday ordinary life on the streets. I make doodles and scratchy penned art. It’s like knitting. It’s comforting, a doing, which balances this kind of writing. It provides an outlet while things percolate inside that are deep and stirring. There is a strangeness to it, to try to recall things I am wanting to capture in my writing, a rawness of feeling, of what I can’t see and can’t get at. It floats in like ash on the tail of a breeze and then recedes.

I’ve played around with writing a memoir about my healing journey, or voyage I have been on for a very long time – but I still am not sure where to start or whether I will pursue it.

For now I continue writing bits and doing my scratchy art and shooting photos of everyday moments of life.