A picture paints a thousand words, but no pictures will be used in this post.
Words can paint a thousand pictures, too.
I love words. I mean, I don’t know many long ones (‘antidisestablishmentarianism’ is just too much) and I have so many frustrating moments when I find myself doubting my spelling on the most ridiculously simple ones – but I bloody love them.
It is the power of words that I find so incredible. They way that you can tell a story in a million different ways. How such a detailed description of a place can make you feel as though if you were to close your eyes you could be right there. How words can provoke such strong emotions – causing you to weep in pain or in happiness, to laugh until it hurts, to leave you heartbroken or lead you to fall hopelessly in love. They can also confuse the sh*t out of you, of course. And the use of expletives like that can cause your Dad to text you to tell you off for swearing in a blog post (uh oh).
With the publication date of the book just weeks away (sixteen days, actually – a profound timeline for me, which you will understand if you read the book), I find myself spending many a moment daydreaming about how my 60 Postcards project has changed my life. Words are everywhere. The handwritten note that I left on the postcards, the emails exchanged with the finders, the set up of this very blog and now the book – I think it must be almost 120,000 words that have been used along the way. And it was all in order to help me to celebrate a date that I was so afraid of. As heartbreaking as these milestones will always be, I have to use what I have learnt from my past experiences – to continue to turn days of misery on their head. Today I face another…..
Once I have published this post, I am off to spend the day around London town. And while wandering, I have set myself a mini project. I am going to take 60 Photographs around the city – of views, landmarks and people. Maybe even a few abstract shots (the Tate Modern called, they want their photos back – ha). I will get the photographs printed and will be able to look at them in years to come. I’d rather do this than spend the day crying into my corn flakes. That said, it is still early in the day. I can’t promise I will be able to hold it together completely. And that’s OK.
Two years ago today we lost Mum. Two years ago I lost a piece of my heart that will never be replaced. But I will do my best to make this a day to remember once more. For her.
‘Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass….it’s about learning to dance in the rain.’