I am, therefore I write

Is it too late to say a Happy New Year to you? I have been away for so long that I feel a little like a dry quill that has been starved of ink in a forgotten hut for many moons.....so here goes...

I had a conversation last night with the most stubborn man I know, and on the subject of writing his exact sentiments are

"Real men don't write"

My heart skipped a beat at his words, the same way it does when I hear someone say "God does not exist" (Dramatic? I know. But that's why you love me)

Because you see, real men do write. REAL PEOPLE WRITE. For people who write, especially those of us who sometimes embrace the art of putting the quill to parchment (or pen to paper, if we must) it can sometimes be described as the highest form of self-expression, right up there with great musical talent and amazing artwork. The possibilities are endless when you  face a blank page: the freedom to create a new experience or to express the depths of your soul to people in a vacuum of aloneness are the precious gifts that the writer has been given. But it definitely is not for all of us.

For me, writing started as a way to clear my head of the many many many wonderful thoughts I had floating around all day. I would write about my day and my life and other people's lives and the way I felt and my dreams and my fears and anything I thought about until writing became my weapon, a secret that has gotten me farther than any other skills I have. But more importantly, writing is for my pleasure...and I do hope it's yours too.

More importantly...

I'm BACK!!!