To understand me

To understand me

To understand me, perhaps a few tangibles may help.

If I were the sky, I would be a cloud drifting, reshaping, reinventing, but always enigmatic. If I were the earth, I would be a rock, bathing in the rush of a waterfall.

If I were a tree, I would be a willow, that soft lacy wandering in the whims of beezes, dreaming quietly by water.

If I were a place, I would be Sheffield in Tasmania; coloured with murals whispering of other lifetimes; wrapped in the mystery of blue mountains flecked with snow.

If I were a shop, I would be Berkelouw’s rambling magic of a homestead, alone in serene farmland, in Berrima NSW; graced with an intimate café, window boxes of vibrant geraniums and a wonderful log fire hosted by an old armchair. And of course, those books forgotten by the mainstream bookworld.

But, I am none of those things, for now.

For now, I am just some eerie etchings on a white slate.

“Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It is about learning to dance in the rain."