With a cup of tea. That’s where the small things usually start.
But I think for my first post, I’ll begin by telling you about my mother – she is after all, quite small.
She came late to writing, being a dyslexic schoolchild in the mid-20th Century was not a good place to be but thankfully her creative mind found release in acrylic paint and huge hardwood boards. A course at the community centre in her 50s threw up the suggestion that her difficulties in reading and writing properly were in fact a result of her very unique perspective of the world. And the door opened. She picked up a pen. She loves to share her work.
I’ve always been a writer – my Mother’s influence rubbing off on me. In turn, I now catch my own six year old daughter writing poems and creating stories and warmly remember rich afternoons spent cradling a beloved notebook, pouring over old scribblings and making new ones. As a teenager, I scratched my tormented feelings into larger, less beloved notebooks and as an adult, I send my ideas adrift on the internet.
It’s the idea of sharing that inspires me. My mother speaks to everyone – from strangers at the bus stop to the Big Issue seller and his dog in the town. She has a friend who wears no shoes from year end to year end, with tattoos on his head and no more home than a hand-built shack and a wood burner but she hugs him in the street and they share poetry. There are scraps of paper, pages ripped from notepads and neatly typed prose but each of her pieces is insightful, uplifting and beautifully rare. These are her gifts.
So, I got to thinking, what if I shared some of her work? What if I shared some of my own? What if I gave a space for others of a like mind? We could all be standing at one virtual bus stop or drinking from the same viral teapot.
That’s what the Queen of Small Things project is all about and there is more to follow.
