Three is the magic number. Things happen in threes, they say. Third time lucky. I am a believer in signs, and over the past months three people have inspired me to write. There have been many before, and yet this trio of muses chime so well together. They have offered three different, yet equally vivid inspirations. To put pen to paper. To commit to creating. I am also about to turn 33 years, and so to ignore the symmetry of all of this seems woefully ungrateful.
The truth is, I have always had a dalliance with writing, but have lacked the confidence to actually begin. The ideas come thick and fast (and often unbidden), yet harnessing them has proved elusive. I have several collections of papers, of various sizes, from numerous butchered notebooks and pads. All the precious leaves are ripped out and kept together, whilst their brother and sister pages are demoted to shopping lists, ‘to do’ items and reminders. Lost.
I keep the penned pages together, and dream of a time that I will enhance them.
Yet I don’t. They lie dormant, like evidence in a closed police case. A still life of passion. As a friend of mine says, when it comes down to organising my thoughts, I feel like I am clutching at straws, or ‘plaiting fog’. So I have made a decision. Out with the old, and in with the new. Tomorrow, I am going to buy a notebook, and write. Actually write. Share my ideas, and in doing so try to find an audience. God help them.
I feel both apprehensive and exhilarated. A bit nauseous. Bar a handful of occasions, writing has been a truly solitary pursuit for me. This is a major step in to the unknown. Plaiting the fog. Just for luck, I’ve halted this entry at 333 words exactly.If anybody happens to read this, and read this far, then please do comment on it, and share it if you feel it is worth a perusal.
© Tom Tide 2016