Blogging. Is it about the writing? Is it about the photography? Or is it about both?

It’s definitely both for me. As I think of the summer drawing to an end, the autumn fast approaching, and the projects I'd like to accomplish creatively, I discover that whilst writing is definitely my first creative love, I've since grown to embrace other arts with the same passion. And there's space for all of it in my heart, if not time.

What do I fancy writing about? I carry an A5 notebook with me ever since I can remember. They've changed in brand, and they've gone from lined to plain – my absolutely favourite to write on – but they haven't changed in size.

Until I was 27, I used to write thoughts in my notebooks all the time. Always in black ink. Mostly nostalgic and sad and raw. I found myself in my writing and I needed it to deal with whatever happened. That was how I made sense of the world, life, change, growing up. It was my way through everything and anything and it really worked for me. Until it didn't. 

One day, writing made me sad. One day, my writing wasn't the way to deal with my nostalgia and sadness anymore, it was the cause of it. I realised that if I kept that pen off the paper, I could just enjoy things. The world, even my own, didn't need all that analysing and rawness; it needed life. Except that this realisation didn't happen in a day, it took over three years. Since I'd known myself, writing had been my coping mechanism and working out how that was changing for me wasn't easy. I had also forgotten the light side, the writing just for the sake of it rather than to explain myself to myself.

I started this blog and writing in English made me find just that. All of the sudden, I was silly and lighthearted. My nostalgia didn't translate easily and I let my cheerful side roam free; best thing I ever did! 

All of that said and I still haven't answered the question. What do I fancy writing about? That's the one thing that hasn't become easier… I don't know. I enjoy opening Typepad's editor and seeing it blank and fill it with words, thoughts, things that go through my head, much like before but happy. I love the randomness and I love the blank canvas ready for me. My notebook is still my trustworthy companion, but it sees different action now; I write plans and ideas and dreams and to do lists, more than stories… I think that will change again…

Where does photography fit in? It makes me happy. And that's it, for now. 

P.S. – Writing is actually incredibly good for you!



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