A few days ago, someone asked me what my hobbies were...I was perplexed by the revelation of how hesitant and foggy my response portrayed itself...... The concrete buildings that seemed to grow as I grew older, in the little estate in Nairobi, a few minutes from Town; reminded me of how giddy and upfront I was about the things I loved to do. " I love singing, writing, painting and reading in my leisure time", my 13 year-old self would respond excitingly, almost out of breath, every time someone someone asked. As age becomes a growing factor in who we are, we are accustomed to loosing or compromising our creative fuels for what is suiting or popular . " I spend a huge sum of my time writing, Reading ancient literature and the history of writing...I also read a lot,..just the basic stuff." this was my answer. Maybe a little vague..we-e-ell, this was very vague and lacked even the tiniest particles of sincerity. It is true that I love all the above but when you love something, don't be hush, hush about it. I believe we left the complexities and immature claws of middle school in middle school. The first writing acquisition was when I was around seven or 10yrs-old. A memory so distant but still alive in my hypothalamus. I started off writing songs and short stories, which I would read to my twin sister and my mom every Sunday evening when we all retreated to a good rest. The thing about being confident in your work is that sometimes you can get ahead of your ego.I recall my high school teacher, saying, "Your work is too polished, simplify your imagery"..this words have been a cross I've carried for a while. As a little girl, I strived to uncover the intricacies portrayed in big words, I wanted to be well acquainted with words like, proximity, Vacuity, Impropriety, Subversive and the list builds a bridge. My momentum grew, my writing evolved with each new word I incorporated into my writing, but for Mrs....we'll call her Mrs.Maccabee.It wasn't her cup of tea. And that broke me. I completely shut down my creative goosebumps and began spilling words that shouldn't be dribbled on paper. My soul, My brain was HUSHED. The sun peeked its eyes at me, as I flicked through the 5th page of MichelAngelo's Biography book, in the corner seat of a used bookstore on the curb of James street. I didn't end up getting it because it was a little over budget, but the few minutes our hearts exchanged signals was somewhat enough. I spend my days in bookshops or at home, reading but for the most part writing anything that comes to mind.One thing that Mrs.Macabbee taught me is that practice makes perfect and so does it. In whatever way you are living or expressing yourself, you must deny people the right to hush you. I slowly but surely broke my resistance, I was free to write again like I did, and it has bettered my love for writing. Accept criticism however way it comes, but remain true to yourself. If J.K Rowling stopped envisioning the strength of her Harry Potter series, then am not sure how todays generation would have grasped a word of literature.
Follow guidelines but don't compromise so much that you can't breath. As my Sunday comes to a diluted end, I thank you for reading, remember that a wise man never forgets to dream. Thanks You, Mandy Nom
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