A Return To Writing
Thursday 18th September § Leave a comment
I never really stopped. It’s just that for the last few years, the things that I wanted too write about weren’t things that I felt I could to share here. Instead I took to writing in the old fashioned pen and ink fashion (which is just as messy as I remembered from primary school), in two black squarish books, now scuffed with misuse, that recount the periods surrounding my grandfathers death and that of my first true love. But now, with both safely in the past I feel an urge not to stop writing. I am all too aware that I have nothing ‘real’ to say and full expect this to be one of those blogs that serves no external purpose. But even if all this is is just an erratic diary, then that’s enough for me. Like a pet monster that nags to be fed.
On the street running along the rear of the Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao