Four Years

I do not know if I intended to still be putting-out blogs four years after I began back in 2015.

How the world has changed in that time.

How I have changed.

I have had readers come and go, a few have accompanied me throughout; some critics, some supporters. It has been a unique experience, connecting with people from everywhere.

There have been times when I almost stopped, yet, I have repeatedly been drawn-back.

I never knew I had it in me.

From being quite young I had always wanted to write – I can remember the first time someone remarked that what I had written was quite good – this was at a friend’s birthday party; I had scribbled something odd on their card. I was probably 15 at the time.

Since then I have had a strange relationship with writing.

Before and early-on during my time as a student I used to write what I described as ‘spontaneous poems’ – inspired by the automatic writing of Kerouac and friends, with a little Apollinarie thrown-in.

I haven’t worked-out how to do curlicue writing on Word. Perhaps one day.

My relationship with writing has been strongly associated with my state of mind – at times, dark, pessimistic, at others joyful, ebullient.

When I began and thought of the name Almondemotion this was at the heart of the idea – the impossible connection between creativity, freedom and safety.

You cannot create poems or blogs if you are in fear, equally, you can’t improve safety or care if you are afraid either of failure, ridicule or attack.

Fear is a pernicious hangover from our past; it is thriving on hospital wards, in offices, workplaces and schools today.

Doing-away with fear has been my aspiration.

I haven’t succeeded, terrified as I still am of much.

Being able to cast-out some of your innermost fears is likely a first step, although I have a long way to go.

It’s funny.

I write in a heightened state, not quite fear, but stressed if anyone reads what I am typing before I have pressed ‘send’ as if, the first draft is something I can’t risk exposing; ironic really when after the button is pressed the world is provided a sliver of me.

I finished reading Marc Hamer’s book, ‘How to catch a mole’ this morning.

I love his style and wish one day to be able to express myself in a similar fashion, mixing memory with metaphor, prose with poem.

In total, I have more than 700 blogs.

This is the biggest thing I have done in my life; the most consistent act of creativity, beyond perhaps my family and career, although both of them are fairly independent and do not require me sitting down and typing.

What of the future?

Recently my kids had been joking about my writing a book.

I’d love to do something like that, although not sure where to start.

I have a chapter coming-out in the ABC of Dementia coming out shortly; I’ll let you know when it us published!

Around a year ago I made a vanity-edition of some of my poems. It is somewhere around the house. I am not sure what I was expecting.

What will I do tomorrow, where will I go?

If I could draw or sing that might be another outlet; for now, I am constrained to the page, etching away my little bit of me.

Thank you for reading.

I’d love to have more of a dialogue, although I see this lack of engagement as a reflection on my style.

For now, I will keep going, at least until the lights go out.