Illustrated by D.G.Mitchell
TIGA began, as many things do, with a pile of clutter, a musing on whether stuff should be given away or kept. It quickly morphed into something else, of course, my plan not going, well, according to plan. Musings on trophies, burnt pot-bottoms and ziplock containers were replaced with thoughts on married life, family rituals and whether jumping off the anti-depressant cliff is a good idea (for me, no).
There have been beads, and more beads. So, yes, I still rhapsodize about stuff from time to time, but generally the question at hand is always much bigger than that: what is this all about, is a theme that repeats itself, time and again, whether this is a devoured fruit smoothie or just a lousy mood. Once identified, I can step back and ask. Is this worth keeping? Worth doing? Worth saying? It is never that easy, of course, no matter what I, or anybody else, tell you.
TIGA also began at a crossroads of my writing life, when I stepped out of, if not the closet, then the ensuite bathroom, where I`d been hiding away for years with a notebook and a carefully chosen pen. I decided not to hide anymore, but to bring my writing out into the open where it could have some fresh air and breathe. It is amazing the difference that makes. For years, I had concealed not only my writing habit, but my journals, which lay buried in a Rubbermaid bin in our storage garage, alongside my step-daughter’s decade old riding ribbons and assorted lawn ornaments. I brought them upstairs and housed them in a wicker storage box, close to my writing desk. And for once, I began sharing my writing with like-minded friends. I started to carry a notebook around and write when inspiration struck. So, TIGA was a starting point. Where its going? Who knows? I guess I will keep scribbling erratically along and find out.
Lots of days I see “write blog post” on my todo list, and think, why? Why do this? Why type out these scenes from my life and hit “Publish”? The answer comes quickly:
Because I can, for one thing, and because I have to, for another. Maybe those are the only reasons necessary. Mahatma Ghandi said it better: “Whatever you do in this life will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.”