dec 19 106a victoria st stromness. the night before leaving
i want to stitch but i just don’t know what or how or what it might look like, what shape or stitch or or or. it is the same with writing, i feel i should write but don’t know where to start. perhaps my life may be likened to one of those crazy patchwork quilts, with many different colours and fabrics and stitches. you know one with no discernible pattern or forethought yet somehow in tune and with a richness of colour and a wholeness that just makes you want to touch it and wonder about the person who made it. perhaps i can write my life in terms of patches, roughly hewn together with stitches formed from threads that run through it and with colours that match my many moods but where would i start.
i am not convinced of the usefulness of a blog and hence perhaps one of the reasons i have stopped writing, it has ceased to feel a useful medium for me, its like so what? it does not feel to be in a usable format and for heavesns sake, tell me do why the spell check is not working here and there are no capitals or substitutions. sometimes life is frustrating and my IT skills are sadly lacking. there has been so much going on that i could have written about but my energies have been sucked away by the very nature of being still.