It’s all a rich tapestry…

This isn’t my first time blogging and likely may not be my last.  I grew up with the dream of being a writer.  I remember sitting with my family in front of the television watching something scintillating like “Starsky and Hutch” or perhaps “Kojak” as we youngsters of the 70’s were wont to do.  I was around seven and carried a notepad with me pretty much 24/7 and rather than watching the amazing acting of Telly Savalas or David Soul – I wrote.  I was writing a novel, you see.  A novel that was, looking back on it, a direct plagiarism of the Shakespearean prose of whatever Nancy Drew tale I had just finished reading.  But I was writing.  Was it good?  No.  But I loved it.  I remember thinking that this is what my life was supposed to be.  Just me, books and words.  Some of those words I would read and some I would write, because as a writer I am also a reader.  And I love both.

Life is filled with turns and twists and some of those are harsh realities.  I learned that I would not make money writing and gave up the dream.  But to be honest, nothing ever really replaced it.  Writing wasn’t a dream like becoming a pop star or flying to the moon on a spaceship shaped like a polka dotted dinosaur.  It was less a dream and more of who I was.  And, who I still am.  I wish I could write for a living.  Use words and tell stories and actually still be able to pay my bills.  But alas, so far that dream is still a long ways away.  Perhaps I will get there someday.  Perhaps someday I can write a novel or a series of essays or a memoir and I will actually make a living from it.  But until then, writing is living for me.  And it’s something I need to get back to.

So this blog is going to be a site where I tell stories of things that I see or have experienced.  I titled this post “It’s all a rich tapestry…” because that’s how I see the world.  Everything is just a rich tapestry.  We are all threads that make up the amazing colors and textures.  Without any one of us, the tapestry loses something.  We all have something to give.   So, be the beautiful cyan thread that weaves through the sky, or the celadon fiber that creates a blade of grass.   Everyone has something to give.  Writing is what I will share with you.  It may not be perfect.  But it’s my thread of the tapestry.  I hope you will enjoy it.

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