: i’d be lying if i didn’t acknowledge that writing for me is a selfish exercise. where photography and filmmaking is creating something beautiful for the world to consume, when i write i always turn inward first. i studied fine art and textiles and that feeling you get when you’re stitching a mass of fabric into a floor length gown, or when you’re turning a wash of watercolour into a shape, a person, with depth, perception, shadow and form, that’s what i feel when i’m wrestling my wayward thoughts into a paragraph of elegant prose. i used to say that writing is therapy, but that’s too shallow a comparison. writing is life, writing is creation, writing is feeling the breath of God against my cheek.
whatever i write always read aloud, and the feeling of a perfectly crafted sentence rolling off my tongue is so delicious i actually get butterflies. the majority of what i write no one will ever read (because it’s in my diaries and journals), but the satisfaction doesn’t disappear without an audience. i’ve written myself back to sanity, i’ve written myself into a career, and now i feel like i’m writing myself into a future that once felt like a dream. act 7, scene 1: the life and times of jendella the first 📓🖋💫