Dust

It’s been a lifetime since I’ve blogged. So much has come and gone, it’s hard to find a place to start. And what to say? It seems this space has filled with dust. As some would know, a while ago I packed away my world of words into a box. Tied the box with string and slipped it all away into an empty drawer. I needed space away from writing and so instead, I started to explore the world of colour, paints and water coloured paper.

As a little girl, I would doodle all day long. I could slip into another world, spending hours with my new found friends who danced upon the page. Drawing filled my life with a special kind of happiness. From around the age of nine, I watched my mother’s health decline. With countless trips to hospital, the life I once had known and loved soon crumbled. It was hard to understand it all. My bags were packed and I was fostered to an older aunt. My paints and paper stayed behind. I missed them. They had been the one thing that I knew would never fail me.

When my mother died, I started writing stories. Not the kind the teachers sent you home to write. More the kind that filled the cracks that had suddenly appeared around my mother’s death. At eleven, I couldn’t make a scrap of sense trying to live a life without her. Eventually, I moved back home where I tried to edge my way back into an odd shaped world . My paints and paper sat beneath a timeless veil of dust while the weight of grief sat heavy in my heart. My world had lost its ballast and I lost the will to blow the dust away. Painting pictures couldn’t resurrect her. She was never coming back. But somehow as I processed all the sadness, I found that words could fill the void. The magic of a story could bring her to the room where we could paint the world together. That has never left me.

So it’s odd that I’m here decades later, drawing breath to blow the dust of time away. I’ve had some help. Some well timed words cracked the drawer wide open. I’m writing once again. My aim will be to weave my words and art together in whatever way I can to send a message out into the world. I hope it finds its way.

Inspiration in a Dress


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14 thoughts on “Dust

  1. a very moving piece of writing, Lynn. It will be interesting to see what you come up with. I assume you’ll keep us posted 🙂

    • Promise not to leave it for quite so long! I’m keen to see what turns up too. Thanks for dropping by, John.

  2. Beautiful post Lynn. You are certainly a writer. Write and paint what’s in your heart. Can never fail doing that.

  3. Ah, the treasure and wisdoms within a cracked-open heart. And the only way you find them is to be cracked open. So happy you are writing again, Lynn. You say your aim is to weave your words and art together in whatever way you can to send a message out into the world. Well, it’s already found its way. It’s already whispered to my Soul xx

    • Yes – well cracked here. Thanks for your lovely words. Your words inspire me daily. YOU inspire me daily. On so many levels. Without fail.xxx

    • Hi Carole. I’m an eternal fatalist! Things will morph and shape the path. I’m just glad I’m back on it.

    • Thanks, Karen. She was a beautiful woman. She’d be happy I am writing again, too. I can feel her in the fuzzy felt tip of the pen. 🙂

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