Momservation: “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” ~Marcel Proust
☺ ☺ ☺
It’s no surprise that as a writer I have always written.
It started with my first diary filled with elementary thoughts:
“I hate my brother!” (After he stole my diary and read it.)
I graduated to journals and better hiding places, my musings reflecting my teenage focus:
“Jeff said ‘Hi’ to me today in the halls! I’m so totally gonna die!!!”
I started a poetry journal, mostly filled with lovesick poems with titles like these:
“Longing”, “One Way Love”, “Love Confession”, or “Even Though We Just Met”. (I was sure an 80’s hairband would’ve killed for my material.)
Eventually, by the end of college, I filled half a dozen journals with my writings plus a three inch binder with all my poetry.
Most of it is cringe worthy, but I never gave up on the process of putting my thoughts on paper, hopeful of where I was headed, reflective on where I’d been, the outlet of writing liberating my soul. And when you put so many thoughts on paper over the years, an evolution is inevitable.
And really cool to go back and look at—amazed at the lyrical snapshot you created of yourself. It’s pretty incredible to look back and be able to put a finger on the moment your destiny was determined.
I would be a writer.
So in honor of the #ThrowbackThursday movement, here’s one circa 1989 (complete with illustration!):