Commentary on Eternal Memory

So I haven't read my Precious in about 5 years...I wrote it, presented it, and hid it away.  I remember being afraid of letting those mentioned in its ink know my reality and soul.  I cringed thinking that I could bare no more of me without tearing my skin from my bones.  The history is simple:  as a teen a good therapist and someone I will hold dear to my heart forever gave me my first journal.  She said write, share if you want, keep it private if you prefer.  I took her suggestion to heart an put my teen angst to paper and committed my poetry and some short stories to its pages.  I still have this journal, the only one I ever really kept, and as time moved along I would spend a few hours hand copying my collections into the safe confines of its binding, a compilation of mish mosh - of me.  And if by chance some new verse comes to mind I will place it there as well.  I laugh reading through my early pages now, but that's what growing up is all about.

I really never wrote beyond that little pink cloth book with a bouquet of something fresh on its cover until undergrad.  Those years at Penn State Abington changed my life in so many ways.  I would compose a novel on that time alone, but perhaps that's better left behind closed doors for now.  There are several teachers with whom I credit my crystallis: Seesholtz, Miller and Simon the most.  I learned to be a writer and be personal and free with my pen.  And in those days it was a pen and lined paper.  I started standing up for myself, my beliefs, principles and perspecives: I found my voice.  I was able to use this magical time to piece together my soul in pages of dreams, memories and papers.  By grad school I emerged and produced my Precious.

I look back at this blog from the depths of my post-partum madness and recognize that same fear of exposure and truth I had on printing day.  Over these past two years I've been able to release most of those ghosts and even though they hang around and remind me they will always be a part of my Mindspace I don't fear them, they are a part of me and helped create me and they can be friends not hauntings now.  So today I introduced my old ghosts to the new spirits and they can have a party, drink vodka in my honor and do a little dance...I know they will get along just fine.  I am curious though...if they will invite me to tea.