"Write what should not be forgotten." ~Isabel Allende
When I was a young girl I had a diary that I would write in on a daily basis. All of my adventures, thoughts and emotions were contained within. It remained hidden underneath my bed for a long time. One day I came home from school and saw it on the dinner table. My mom had found it and read every single page. I felt not only embarrassed but betrayed. That day all of the pages were destroyed, but the memories that inspired my writing remained. From that point forward until about the age of 20 I stopped writing anything personal.
However, housed within my body was an insatiable desire to express my inner thoughts and feelings. Words were whirling around in my head, manifesting themselves in the form of dreams. I chose poetry/short stories as my primary method because it was a beautiful way to transform my memories and experiences into something that hopefully others could relate to. I could add some magical elements to my poetry/stories, and carefully craft what I wanted to say. In addition, the process has been cathartic. My poetry book has taken the place of my diary.
I no longer keep it hidden. Its location changes depending on the day. Sometimes it is on the couch, other days it is on the washing machine, and most days it sits quietly next to my nightstand waiting for me to nourish it words.
