Clear Pools, Shallow Waters

Easy, comfortable, perhaps even comforting — there’s nothing provocative or challenging here, no trauma or turmoil, only the familiar voice of someone remembering, imagining, reliving episodes from his childhood and beyond. Writing for writing’s sake. Writing to find out what might surface that day, as one day follows another, and the nights with their twitches and dreams, while a vast amount remains out of reach — or seems to, because it would take too much time and work to dredge up from the deep. Or maybe I’m afraid to face it, or to discover what it really is — maybe it exists, maybe it doesn’t. Maybe I’m tormented more than I realize. Certainly there are times when it feels there’s something lurking, waiting for my brave, undivided attention. And wouldn’t it be a shame if I’ve written and lived for so many years only to scratch the surface?

[ 2020 ]