WRITING FOR LIFE

Started this blogpost in February.................

I should be working. My work right now is reading, finding out information about a particular topic and applying that knowledge to writing scientific stuff that can be called 'papers' meaning they have been analytically assessed based on approved guidelines for scientific writing but that's not what I have been doing. 

I have been dozing, goofing off and trying to wrap my head around some music. Why is that? Well, its this February thing, once its February, it feels like a holiday, my own month long personal holiday. Does not help that all the best people are born this month (apologies, Mayowa, its truth!!!). 

Ok, read the roll of honor and help me decide, My Very Self (MVS),  born this month (BTM), husband and Resident 'olowo ori mi',BTM, my dad and mum (crap! forgot she passed!) and mum-in-law, BTM, aunts-in-law,  BTM (born this month), sis-in-law, niece (not that hacker girl!), nephew (not the hacker boy either!), all BTM. There's my supervisor, BTM, a whole range of friends BTM......need I say more? 

I hope y'all are on the lookout, Valentine's Day is this month, Mardi gras is celebrated this month and the year determines whether it will 'leap' or not by the antics of this month. I love February (in case you hadnt noticed!) and I aim to do and be all I can be/do this month.

What are your plans for February? Mine always has lots of music, parties and nice times included and this year is no different. I have assignations on Bourbon street, a dark alley and a great dinner place, all with great people and the promise of  more of stuff that I like.

Will keep you posted..............

In the meantime, I need seven prayer warriors to help me keep vigil for seven days so I can finish all this work in my hand so I can enjoy this month appropriately.

All of the above was written in February and here I am in March, or more appropriately, on the thresh-hold of April and aside of birthdays (and assignations), this piece is still relevant. I am finding out I can do most anything after I write. When there's something inside me that requires the expression in writing, nothing else goes well till its done. I know that does not necessarily make me a writer much as standing in a garage does not make me a car but I sure would appreciate a label so I can move on.

My estimation of my writing is also not as writers estimate. Writers are able to tell you what genre they belong in, I cant, dont have a reason, just dont know enough to genre-rise me is all. They are able to tell you what Great One(s) influence their work but I dont even know any Great One and the writers I know are humans with feet of clay to me, their brilliance is all that appeals, their popularity and worldwide appeal grates on me, an inconvenience. They have words that mean stuff and are the stuff education should be about, I speak passable English, Yoruba, a smattering of several other languages and lapse into an unrecognizable language that I expect others to understand when excited or frustrated. They have a 'common thread', I am still searching for what that means and cant decide why I need it. They are in touch with other writers and hold each other up, literary is what they call themselves, I run when I see other writers cos I am in awe of people who are able to do such deep things (you know yourself I would have run from you too!). They are needy, wanting validation in form of reviews of their work, wanting to know how you perceive them, I dont, I usually write for my own enjoyment, well, used to anyway. 

Until now...........................................