So, this is the first.  The first of many?  The first of a few?  The only to ever be written?

I suppose we shall find out those answers together.

I never really meant to be a writer. I’ve always loved books and writing, but I guess I never saw those things as lifestyle or career choices, but just as hobbies that one might undertake.  But the longer I live and the more I experience, the more writing has become a part of my everyday.  I write angst-filled poems sometimes, or pages for my book, or articles that I almost never submit for consideration in any sort of publication, or grocery lists.  But, one way or another, writing has become essential to my life.

The aforementioned book is a memoir.  It details the last 40 years of my life, and it delves into issues of trauma and social justice in recounting the stories of my life.  Recently, I have found that the pages of my book become distracted and cluttered up by the thoughts that just seem to swirl around in my head.  Some are related to my book.  Many are not.  So, I have decided that I need a place to put and to share those thoughts, so that my book writing time isn’t overwhelmed by the treatise I wrote to my former professor about how demanding you are right when your demands wound people isn’t in good form, or the many arguments about “modest dress” (aka, slut-shaming) that I seem to fall into on Facebook, or the thoughts I keep having about how my feet feel like someone is sticking glass into them today.  All those extra thoughts…those many, many extra thoughts…will likely come to rest here, on this page.

So, I hope that this first post gives just a little bit of an idea of why I am here and beginning this project.  I’m not certain what the end product of this venture will be, but I’m excited to begin something new, regardless.