My Work in Print
No words. Just gratitude.
Category Archives: Head | Creativity
The Theatre • A Challenging and Rewarding Career
It turns out I wasn’t after the applause, I was after the satisfaction of bringing what had only once been an idea, into life on the stage. I was an integral part of the creative process. Stage Management completely satisfied my urge to be near the bright lights and the magic.
The Storytellers
This post is to acknowledge and give an identity to the characters who want to tell their story in my novel. There is no explanation, message, insight, or story here — these images are just for my own records. Today I am grateful for a visit from the Muse who has whispered her ideas into my heart. [The cards… Read More
The End • The Joy of Finishing What You Started
Last Friday, I wrote the words THE END on Stages | Episode Five, the final instalment in the Sophie Walker series. After an enthusiastic start (I wrote the first four episodes in a month) I struggled to write the final episode.
Reading • the Ultimate Escape
Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve devoured books. I don’t ever remember my mother reading to me (although I’m sure she did), I only remember hiding under the covers with a torch and reading long after I should have been asleep.
Morning Pages • Capturing the Muse
The transformative powers of Morning Pages, even without doing them by hand.
Typing Lessons • an unexpected blessing
I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I left school. I had narrowed it down to a doctor, an actress or an interior designer.
‘Take shorthand typing,’ my mother said. ‘You never know when you might need it.’
Scars
And the day will come when those difficult moments are merely stories to be told proudly to those who will listen.
Scars are medals branded on the flesh, and your enemies will be frightened by them because they are proof of your long experience of battle.
Scars speak more loudly than the sword that caused them.
— Paulo Coelho
The First Lie
Did you have a love/hate relationship with your siblings? Can you remember your first lie?
The Red Door
The door is red and arched surrounded by a low stone wall covered in creeping vines and ferns. There is a wrought iron handle that needs to be pulled and turned to open the door. Above the door is my name in an old fashioned script.
Regrets
The explanations are too hard. The place is dark and uninviting and yet it draws me back to it again and again. Am I trying to justify what happened or to explain to myself why it did? It makes no sense even now. I regret being with him. It’s the one thing I truly regret.
Losing My Virginity
There are some moments that only come once in a lifetime. The first time you kiss a boy, the first time you have sex, the first time you lose someone you love. Yesterday, I had one of those first moments — I saw my words in print for the first time.
Just the highlights in a numbered list
The things I’ve been thinking about this week in a list of nine.