Why do I Write?
Once in a while, a word, a smell, an image, a sound, will trigger a potential wormhole.
If I can access pen & paper quickly enough, a neural pathway will often be revealed.
After the initial outpouring, the joy is in the edit, the tweak, the jigsaw clunk of the right word in the right place.
Therein lies great satisfaction.
I am a vintage Aquarian ponderer, sporadic essayist, and fledgling blogger.
Recently identified Aphantasia means I carry no sensory library, no inner images. I have a blind but knowing mind’s eye. For me, writing is often the key to explore the wealth of the past. Fortunately, my mother passed on an umbilical passion for the English language.
A lifelong hyper-awareness of the natural world bleeds into most of my writing, with an undercurrent of childlike awe & wonder. Equally, its harsh cruelties feed a dark vein of cynicism, especially regarding the human condition.