How I Keep Going.
Boxes of chocolate are great, though they cause mood swings.
Better to canter downstairs and outside to gaze at the high sky in summer, or rustle up a dollop of good food to fire my synapses.
Reading is a must, my desire fed and watered at well-written books laced with self-deprecating humour.
Friends, who insist on dragging me out for lunch promptly on Wednesdays at noon, force me notice new views which feed the written word.
My daughter, with her too-big bike, who gazes smilingly into our dark hallway through the glass, offers a joyful lift with her smile, despite the interruption.
Enjoying holidays, I discover, refreshes my spirit in ways that a computer screen simply cannot.
Out in the wilds of creative impulse, towering above, proud and unashamed, is the desire to weave bliss in words. I choose, I focus on fully; and like the space between worlds where magic is revealed, all else falls away. My yearning to write colour into breathing, fuels the determination to continue: My choice, my power, my wings, my life.