Do what you love.

One of the few things i took from my long stint at university was this crush on Jeanette Winterson.

Forever thankful for that evening creative writing class and the course that handed me 'The Passion.'

Her words. They unravelled me at a time when i needed to be remade.

I've been writing blog posts only in my mind.

Then i see this...

This article.

This picture.

That name.

The memory of a love affair i had purely in my head.

Jeanette Winterson.

We had those months, the blur of hours, i can't even remember what i was doing in all those days, only that for a while- all i saw was the worlds she created in the words, the words that some how knew all the things i didn't about myself. When i think about those days, i'm almost shy, as if we shared some sort of connection and my brain doesn't distinguish the reality from the make believe. She and i shared thoughts, shared days, shared a bed and all the discoveries that lovers do at the beginnings of love.

Now, all these years later- they find me again.

And again she speaks to me directly:

Vien, she says "I don't give a shit what's in your head. By which I mean if it isn't on the page it doesn't exist. The connection between your mind and the reader's mind is language. Reading is not telepathy."

I would laugh, if i weren't so intimidated.




I need to read again.

To write again.

To remember what it feels like.



Mmmm... see you tomorrow. For more gibberish.