Some of the work over at my Memoir Space. I’m exploring the metaphor of beading. You’ll need to click over THERE to read the draft passage that begins this journey into a short story and some poems.
Forever making notes; writing down lists of things to do, remembering the phrase ‘the inbox is never empty.’ So much to learn; so much to do; so much to remember. What to do but begin?
Today I think of the first time I did a self portrait. I was in an art studio with my classmates and must have been eight or nine. I stood in front of a mirror with my multicoloured jumper that might have come from my grandmother. She was a grandmother I didn’t know very well.
She was later to surprise me, and she and grandfather, gave me a red typewriter.
The multicolour jumper became my focus. I wasn’t so interested in my face, and my curly hair but I did…
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