'...While some of my ideas had changed...I was surprised to see that, by and large, the real me who hung in and around the pages was clear.' I love to write. Like so many of my other interests it gives me an outlet, a different way to express myself. I have often found myself musing upon the idea of sharing my ideas with the world. I mean, not just friends, but a wider audience. That’s what I aim to do with my performance work too. But writing…writing a blog? Here goes…! Here I aim to delve into recounts and reflections on my professional and personal life and delve deeper into ideas that, I hope, will be interesting, amusing and may elicit a conversation - with yourself, with others, with the wider world. Writing. A profound skill. One that honours an understanding of language, communication, intention, audience, meaning - so many things which we take as a given everyday. A skill which as an everyday task (for most), is inevitably taken it for granted. Using today’s rose coloured lens, I am feeling ever grateful for the varied skills, knowledge and experience that allows me to write as I do. Even as I write now, I am letting thoughts initiate, then wander, then I allow my competent writing-self to edit those very ideas. Writing has been a strong personal reflective tool: a way to understand many experiences and thoughts that may have made an impact. Some areas where writing has featured in my life so far:
This is the one I want to talk about: my "journals"; though I don’t really call them journals. They’re more like notebooks. Random ones. Some fat with many pages. Some mini flip books. Some multicoloured old exercise books. These notebooks - many of which I have still today - are evidence of much of my growth to date. Just yesterday I picked up notebook after notebook, looking for some lost song lyrics, and I was compelled to read snippets of the entries. I found notes, entries, reflections. Some neat, clear, orderly entries. Some hardly legible, scrawled sideways across the page, almost unrecognisable as language - electrically charged with emotion. What I found so interesting while reading was that while some of my ideas had changed (I definitely did get over that guy, there were some great life rules in there that I haven’t fully lived by, and that was always going to be just a stage with my friends), I was surprised to see that, by and large, the real me who hung in and around the pages was clear. My ideas were clear. My values were clear. My hope was clear. Reading back over these pages showed me even though I thought I felt I wasn’t ‘getting it right’ a few years back, I was. I was learning, I had heartbreak, but underneath it all, I still believed that I would be OK and that I knew myself. And there on the paper, that stared right back at me. The true me. The truth in me. I wanted to share this here because often at those times when we write, especially darker ones, you’re writing and so many things - especially your inner voice - are telling you that you are alone. You’re not alone. Your true self knows that too. For me writing is such a great way to sort out your ideas, your voice, get things straight, vent, edit your ideas, forge your dreams, start again, plan, plan again and continue reflecting on your journey. If you haven’t tried writing for a while, I highly recommend sitting down with a notebook and a pen. Who knows what your journey looks like on paper? Only you can find out. Yours in writing, Paige #LoveWriting #AmEditing #AmWriting #journals #notebooks #writers #writingforlife #writing #reflections #musings #indieauthors #blog #WritersLife #WritingTherapy #writeforyou #readforyou #weekendreads #ordinarywriters #weareallauthors
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