Besides art, one of my first loves is writing. I remember as soon as I could write, I would sit in my mother’s rocking chair and philosophize about how “life was a mystery, a puzzle waiting to be solved,” and so on. I think I was about eight or nine years old when I penned these deep thoughts. Before that, my sister’s and I would journal by dictating our thoughts to our mother, who would then write them down in each of our own little Peter Rabbit journals. My journal from before I could write, included such musings as my mom having “pretty eyes and nice earrings.” Mostly my journal entries included made up tales about my teddy bear tea-tea, his “honey garden” and how he apparently “liked to wash his hair.”
Then, around grade two, a children’s author came to our school and spoke to us about writing children’s books. This woman (how I wish I remember her name) completely captivated me. Her process of writing of children’s books planted a seed of inspiration. While I have not written a children’s book (yet), thinking back on my own journey of writing and now blogging is rather interesting [to me].
Writing for me is an extension of my art practice, and if you have studied fine arts, you know that writing is a big part of the art world. Writing my blog allows me to combine a small part of my academic self alongside my artistic and motherhood related interests. Blogging, as I have discovered, is a wonderful way to keep creative, despite the busyness of caring for a little one. On that note, I must now retire to bed, as sleep is essential to keeping up with a busy toddler!