Writing as my Bubble
The book launch for Sibling Poets safely over in a satisfying way - it went well and I enjoyed it - I am reflecting on the last year and recognise that writing has been my bubble. I have another, 'real' bubble in the form of family. And very grateful I am for that in a year that has made writers even more isolated than usual. But I realise so much more, that writing is a self contained kingdom, a world of my own making. An escape. A fortress or a comfort blanket. I can choose. Sitting on the cliffs as I often am, with pen and paper in pocket or hand, I become enclosed in that absolute moment when thought and creative stream appear as words on paper. Sometimes they are driven by me and sometimes not, sometimes they take on a life of their own and at its end, the words become an entity. Meanwhile I am elsewhere. I am on the cliff but I am capturing the moment for later. At any time I can withdraw the paper from my pocket and transport myself back to that moment, the feel of fres