It's time for reflection at the end of the year, just past the solstice, when every day will be a little lighter. The nights are still long, but it's now easier to regard darkness as a time for the germination of ideas.
Looking back over a year's Jottings, I see that they reflect the news, the seasons, and my writing. In January I was worried if the press would remain free.
In the spring, I inevitably blogged about the reciprocal relationship between writing and gardening, which I know so well.
Two blogs were about Georgia O'Keeffe: one inspired by an exhibition about her way of dressing, and another by a new book about the nature of her feminism.
And, of course, there were a few blogs about the writing of memoir, since it's what I'm doing, in which I raised a few questions about the nature of memory.
What will 2018 bring, I wonder?
Looking back over a year's Jottings, I see that they reflect the news, the seasons, and my writing. In January I was worried if the press would remain free.
In the spring, I inevitably blogged about the reciprocal relationship between writing and gardening, which I know so well.
Two blogs were about Georgia O'Keeffe: one inspired by an exhibition about her way of dressing, and another by a new book about the nature of her feminism.
And, of course, there were a few blogs about the writing of memoir, since it's what I'm doing, in which I raised a few questions about the nature of memory.
What will 2018 bring, I wonder?