Do you write?

I do. I write in a quiet way without there being any audience other than myself.  I sit, the words start to flow and as they settle on the page I play with them until they start to take shape. I was brought up on words. I love exploring them as my mum did before me and my older daughter does now making links

between them and discovering their journey through time. Where do you write? I write in all sorts of places- often just the odd scribble to record random thoughts I’ve had and want to make sure I don’t forget. I’ll sometimes find a note I’ve written in a book or on the back of a receipt, crumpled up in a coat pocket. My parents both did the writing in novels thing too and discovering an unexpected word or message in an old book is a treasure that often reveals itself at just the right time.

Last week, I bought an old writing desk and I love it. I’ve been on the look-out for one for a while but each one I saw wasn’t quite right – wrong size, wrong colour, wrong feel. This one is perfect. I’ve no idea what type of wood it’s made from but it’s dark, lustrous and so smooth as I run my hand along it. Its old key, brass lock and three little drawers that can be locked away are the stuff of fairy tales.

Funnily enough, it wasn’t for writing that I bought the writing desk. It was so that I had a little space for some of my smaller art projects. I am lucky enough to have a little studio where I paint but although waterproof its not insulated so when it gets to this time of year walking to it through the garden on a cold dark evening is enough to stop me going. As the nights draw in, instead, I sort of have art spaces all over the house- kitchen table, sofa, pop up table in a bedroom that sort of thing. When a wave of creativity strikes I need to harness it but if I have to go searching for a paint brush or pencil by the time I have gathered everything from the various spaces then I often don’t have much energy left. The idea is that with my writing desk, I will have my pencils, lino cutters and watercolours all there ready to go. I've even put a lamp on top, so if the daylight has faded I can still get to work.

Since the writing desk has moved in with us, I have spent quite a few moments sitting at it, with Joey curled up at my feet, just getting to know it. It’s over a hundred years old and what keeps coming into my mind is who might have sat here in times gone by and what would they have written? If you think about world events over the past week alone, just imagine how many events both big and small have happened in its lifetime. It will have conveyed both sorrow and joy in its own way. I feel I have now taken on the mantle to continue its writing legacy in whatever form that might take. Sometimes pen and ink and sometimes on my laptop.

Whilst I’m out sketching on the foreshore, words will come calling as I’m sat with nature. My sketchbook ends up with all sorts in it -words, poems, prose... Of course, as is often the way in life, I don’t make enough time to write so I think I’m going to try and write more intentionally from time to time now. I’d love to hear in the comments about your writing journey or maybe just whether you write in books too or if that is something you would never do! I’m going to give myself a chance to sit at my beautiful writing desk more often now, as those before me have, and start to shape those scribbled notes.