A ROOM OF MY OWN
If what Virginia Woolf said was true (and I believe it is), I consider this to be a room of my own. I consider this my space. And whether it is merely my own company I keep or that of many others, I feel a safety in it. I slide into the warm pocket of creativity. Here I shall embark upon writing down the bones of me and fleshing out the human parts that here abide. I see the potential in that there will be times of quiet musing and rumination as well as episodes of tyraid and trauma.
Life upon the page is of value. Of little value is the unrecorded life; for what wisdom we have collected, what beauty, what insight, dies with us unless we imprint it somewhere. Yet the written word cast into a void is not much better unless it finds its way to another and speaks enough truth to become imprinted upon that heart and, even more charitably, passed down along the generations.
Let us strive to be those voices. Let us strive to be that guidance. We have always lived as the blind leading the blind and we shall live there still, groping our way along the corridors of the present toward the light ahead that is the future, leading those that may follow. Let us lead. Lead a leading life. Let the others follow. For you know your own way better than you might think.
BEATNIK FEMME FATALE