There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. I have no idea who they are. I don't recognise the outline, the shape. I think the figure is a woman. She, if she is a she, is tall and slim, almost skeletal, like a witch. This thought scares me. I don't want to be visited by a witch, especially not the ghost of a dead witch. Which is worse? A live witch, with a wand and a broom? Or a ghost witch, with neither because she is no longer a physical substance? Would the live witch or the ghost witch have more powers?
Stop. This is stupid. There is no such thing as a witch, either in life or death, and ghosts are imaginary too. Things made up in order to scare children and entertain adults and add a little fantasy to life.
I look closer and try to work out who exactly is standing in the corner. Surely I must recognise them? How could they be there otherwise? I live in the middle of nowhere. I have never been burgled or visited by someone I didn't invite. But then no one has ever turned up without first receiving a prior invitation and I am not consciously aware of having issued one of these.
So this figure can't be someone I know and it can't be a stranger because both are nearly impossible. Which would mean that it has to be a ghost or some kind of manifestation delivered to me from some other elsewhere. Maybe it's an angel come to present me with a message? Or maybe it's my spirit guide? Will I have some divine inspiration? I am excited. I want to meet this person now.
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.
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.