I’ve been thinking about fun lately.
Seems strange, given the state of the world.
But something has shifted in me (if you’re a regular reader, you’ve probably read that before… insert self-deprecating chuckle here…)
Maybe it’s the result of the last few years, learning over and over again how fragile life is, how short. Or perhaps it’s the move we made to the edge of this incredibly vibrant, engaging city that’s stolen my heart.
Whatever it is….
I’m all about the fun.
Fun with all the art, cultural offerings, great food that’s around: Nuit Blanche, concerts, pho!
Fun with yarn (crochet! Who knew!?).
But mainly, and most important for my heart, my well-being: fun with writing.With this story that’s unspooling from my pen.
That deep pleasure of narrowing in on the exact right metaphor or choice of descriptive word.
An image blooming in my mind…
It’s amazing what you can create in 20 minutes a day.
Entire pockets of time.
One after the next, living on the page.
Building into a first draft…