Creative Writing. Poetry. Opinion.




I joined a blogging community called The Blog Tag.  Every week we’re given a new theme.  The aim is to help bloggers with inspiration for their posts.  This week is Art Week.  We’re also given writing prompts every day.  The writing prompt for this post is “What is Your Favourite Art Form?”.  You may be able to tell from the title…I LOVE music. Continue reading “#iammusic”


She Gave Me

This week is Food Week on The Blog Tag. The writing post for this piece is Food Memory.  When I put food and memory together the thing that comes to mind is my gran in her kitchen.  She is no longer with us but her memory lingers still.

Continue reading “She Gave Me”

Thinking Out Loud

So…I haven’t been writing for a while.  Other than the weekly tandem blog I have written nothing.  Nada.  I’ve had this huge block stuck in my brain.  If I’m honest I’d say I’ve been in my head for the past few weeks.  Morbidly thinking.  Thinking morbidly.

I’ve been thinking about the decisions I’ve made in the last two years.  Were they good for me?  Were they not so good?  Career-wise I’ve always been a bit of a risk-taker.  I was younger then.  Now I’m in my thirties and life happened.  Dreams and priorities have changed (and I have some amazing dreams…).  In many ways I have changed.  I definitely am not the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed twenty-something that I once was.  Where once I could’ve (and probably rightly so) been considered a cynic I am now definitely a realist.  I need a storyboard or planner with figures for everything.  Did someone just decide that when I turned thirty the switch had to be turned on? Continue reading “Thinking Out Loud”

Thinking Back…And Back to Now.

Back in 1990 I was a nine-year-old girl in Standard One at what I consider to be a historical school on the corners of Cecil and Coleridge Roads and Dryden and Pope Streets in Salt River.  Coming from schools in Mitchells Plain and driving out of Eerste River in the Northern Suburbs and toward that majestic mountain daily, this was vastly different from what I was used to.  Less children.  Smaller building (singular).  No grass (which meant no more making daisy necklaces during the summer months).  Going for a lav break was like a long walk to freedom.  Yet, there was a sense of imprisonment because a lot of the teachers were older and were real moms…They were the mistresses of the “mom stare”.  The teachers back then looked like they were going to church or a very important meeting.  They were impeccably dressed. Continue reading “Thinking Back…And Back to Now.”

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑