Writing has always been an integral part of my life. I took to it quite naturally and have written many journals since I was a teenager. I always love to self reflect, get my ideas out of my head and put them down so they are right before my eyes; and not swirling in my mind. My rambling, scattered and disjointed mind chattery thoughts become ordered, neat, clear and focused ideas. So much better. I breathe a sigh of relief even thinking about organising my thoughts on paper.

I started to travel when I was 17, moving abroad to Vancouver Canada to study on exchange was the first of many amazing trips overseas. Living in a new country and having so many new experiences really ignited my passion for writing. I started to record my adventures, send letters home to friends and family, and I realised then how much joy I gleaned from the written word.

I express myself best in words. I can talk pretty well too, don't worry about that! Getting the verbal word quota up per day is crucial for most females on this planet. But writing is a different medium. It is more personal.

Often we can write a whole lot more than we can ever possibly verbalise out loud.

To describe perfectly my subject in detail, to draw a crystal clear image in my readers mind using an artistic and creative use of words; is a passion and goal of mine only growing as I evolve and age.

As a child I was so neat and meticulous. My writing style was very ordered, structured and neat. Perhaps I was trying to find order in my at times complicated life? My parents loved me dearly, showering me in their love and devotion. But their separation when I was young caused an irrevocable and inconceivable amount of confusion and chaos in all of our lives. The ongoing crazy routines right up to my teenage years, equalled many changes, upset routines, and a feeling of being torn between places and people. Perhaps my writing and neatness from my youth enabled me to have my own private perfect sanctuary? Perhaps it still does? Without trying to hyper analyse it too much, for me simply, writing is fun. I love to write and I love to express myself, and I love to create beautiful images.

I also love to collage; to create new scenes of colour, montaging as many impressive eye catching images as I can to create something meaningful to me. Kind of like a dream visualisation. I cut out images of things that I love and want to have in my life, or places I want to go and see and experience. Often I look back on these paper dreamworlds and am pleasantly surprised that I achieved and saw most of the things I had envisioned. So cool!

I still love to collage, and I still write a journal. Cutting out images, creating new scenes, making things look pretty, is a fun activity for me. Writing also coincides with these dreamscapes. Putting pen to paper or reflective typing is an unbeatable self expression tool.

Since losing my family, writing has become a creative and cathartic outlet for me. Many people ask me how I am feeling; and often words in one sentence can not convey the depth of my sadness, and the well of emotion that has formed since my parents died two years apart from the same despicable disease of Lung Cancer. Being able to write about my emotions, intertwined with my travel experience, has enlightened me and evoked feelings of accomplishment and pride.

Over the years I have written about my travels abroad, living in many different countries including Canada, Guatemala, England and Bahrain. At times the urge to write would be so intense. I would be glued to my computer, furiously and intently typing thousands of words at a time, in only a matter of hours. The passion to write is unique and compelling and can strike at the strangest of times. It can keep you awake late into the night, or wake you early at the crack of dawn. I have learnt now to wake from my half sleep, to record a fantastic idea that comes to me; flash bulb epiphanic midnight thoughts are often forgotten by morning.

Just as quickly as the insatiable writing urge comes, my burning fire to express written word can leave. I have had breaks of years between writing spells. Often whimsically missed, being time poor and distracted by other activities in my life, time would pass without written record. I would always manage to reflection write and goal set in my personal journal, but I mean writing inspiration to keep writing my own story as a book. The important thing I have realised about writing, is to simply keep writing.

My Father would always encourage me; when I would tell him about my latest surging urge to write, he would say;

'Keep writing, this is wonderful, maybe one day you can write a book about our story'.

My father had a very interesting life story and I put together a piece for his obituary in the West Australian Newspaper. I often said that I would like to write about his life. He was a mischievous man of many mysteries, interests and passions. A perfectionist, a tradesman and a keen golfer. I once saw him take a level plane tool to ensure the plant pot out the front of the house sat straight, obsessive compulsive comes to mind, but in the best way possible! In my mind I see many tradesman and handymen/women nodding their heads here agreeing with my Father;

'Oh yes, a spirit level is crucial for this task!'

However, I digress, this is not yet his biography. I am inspired to continue to record my impressions of my parents lives, as their history and life story is now my legacy and my story. It is up to me to share their knowledge, learn from their mistakes and live best their advice and teachings. If I don't their amazing and awesome stories and experiences will be gone forever. If something happens to me, our finite existence indicates it will, the desire to express my family story feels urgent, pressing and keeps me highly motivated and obsessed with getting it all written down in a more permanent way; as a legacy for my family.

Everyone has a story, but how many will be told? Most will be taken to the grave. I am still so curious about many tales I will never know, they made it to secret safety, buried under sanctimonious earth.

I will continue to write, to evolve and go with the flow of my creative speak. My eyes are open to the literary world, my mind is clear and fresh with wordy inspiration. I hope my writing can take me in new fruitful directions, and inspire my new and current friends all over the world to make the very most of your lives, follow your dreams, live your passions, and write a journal!

This is my truth, this is my word.

With love,

Anita xx

'A secret is either too good to keep, or not worth keeping' – T. Bastow.