She was confused. Usually there was a title, a prompt, a line, a place to start from. Today it simply said "Write as you please, in six minutes, like a breeze".
Breeze, now there's a word she was familiar with. There was always a breeze, always a cruel wind. It hunched her shoulders and tightened her neck and made it a necessity to always be wound around in a scarf, tightly constricted.
Breeze is a soft sounding word, reminiscent of the ocean, the sea, sail boats and people swimming. It makes one think of a Coastal town, of Europe, of dining outside. The word makes one smile.
But the reality of the thing, in this damn country where fine weather is a rare thing, where winters are long and summers brief, breeze is usually wind and the wind is usually strong.
Add to that the rain and you can see where I am cming from. I am not trying to be difficult. I am not trying to be negative. I just live in a country where breezes are seldom gentle. I wish this were not the case.
It is my wish, my plan, my desire, to relocate, to taken my windswept and rain chilled body across to the other side of the world. There, in this new, kinder, frieldlier, more benign place, I will adjust, uncurl, relax. My shoulders will hang down, my neck will unwind, my scarves will be consigned to the back of the wardrobe. I will strip off my layers and run naked
I have always loved art and drawing has been an important part of my life ever since I can remember. Having creative parents provided me with the right genes and also meant that my naive dabblings were given plenty of encouragement. Growing up, our kitchen walls were lined with huge pinboards which displayed my work. I guess you could say that this was my first exhibition, my audience consisting of family and friends. To date – apart from school and university, where there was always a termly show – it remains the only one. Life interfered with other priorities and stole away my earlier confidence.
Since graduating, I have been a web designer, a graphic designer, a magazine editor, an art director, a copy writer, a literary consultant, a poet, an aspiring novelist, and many other less inspiring things. I have also founded a literary arts magazine called Inside Out, which published two issues before the recession hit.
For the last year, I have been hard at work writing and drawing and would now call myself a writer, poet, artist and illustrator. I use these mediums as ways to better understand myself and find them helpful in exploring and resolving personal problems. This was the focus of Inside Out, which promoted creativity for personal development and emotional well-being. One day I hope to qualify as a creative therapist, offering workshops and retreats and teaching this valuable skill to other individuals.
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