Dot...Dot...Dot

Just a thought...
This existence is like
The game of joining dot by dot.

A dot here and a dot there
Is what we make day to day
"What a pattern I made!"
We will look back and say.

Back to the Blog

Ronnie told us a story.

It was a story about a mad artist who died in penury. 
At the end of the story, he looked directly at me and said, 

"You remind me of that mad artist."

Excuse me??

"Yes, you do."

We were meeting up with some old friends over drinks and dinner at Kinara on our last visit home. 
It was a few days after the new year had set in and I had already made my new year resolutions. Writing daily was not one of them. Journal writing, yes....Creative writing, no.

The mad artist in Ronnie's story painted pictures and kept them hidden under his bed. Only after his death did the world discover his wonderful artwork. 

Ronnie said he was a fan of my writing and rebuked me for not writing. Ashok, Neelima, and Sylvester also piped in with their opinions about my stories. 

"Perhaps we haven't told you before, but we do read what you write."

***

A beautiful tall black woman passed by me while out shopping last weekend. As I compared her to Michelle Obama in my mind, she turned. 

Then she enveloped me in a giant bear hug. 

"Hey, where have you been?" Amaka's voice boomed.

"And what happened to your blog? I am missing it."

I made feeble excuses as she released me from her hug and promised to post asap. 

***


Ah, and all this time I felt I was talking to a wall. Writing is such a one-sided thing.

So now, one by one, I will pull out my stories from 'under the bed' and put them up here. 

Many thanks to Ronnie, Amaka, and all others who gently nudged me from time to time.