I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.
Those are not my words. They belong to Joan Didion. But when I stumbled across them recently, I felt that familiar, almost forgotten, tug. Why I write. Why I wrote. Why I kept journals from childhood to adulthood, why I had, have, a blog, why I’m writing this. I unpack my thoughts and feelings, deconstruct them, understand them, via the written word. I often go back through the journals and blog posts to recall how I took on life, how I took on myself, when I wrote those words.
