“In the sense that there was nothing before it,
all writing is writing against the void.”
Mark Strand, 1934 –
American poet, essayist, and translator.
Sitting in front of the blank computer screen on a particularly wet Sunday afternoon I could not think of anything to write about today. So I am writing into the void. No wonder the blank page or in my case, the empty computer screen, is so frightening. This void is not my usual habitat. I am a creature of city streets, beaches and bush. My inspiration is born in these things, and of course, family and grandchildren.
And as is always the case, I did think of something. Today I thought of a book I have entitled Lilian Too’s Book of Gold. It is subtitled “Wise Ways to Health, Wealth and Happiness” and contains 365 daily reflections. I haven’t even thought of this book for…
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I choose how I will spend the rest of my life 