Sunsets and pastels

Dream your dreams, dearest child, as you paint the sky with your colours.

See, you can be anything. You can paint and create anything your heart desires, dearest one.

You may not draw the picture with paint, crayons or pencils, but you draw with words.

You see the world, and you see pictures of love. Of hope. Of joy.

Dearest one, tell those stories with the hope, love, and joy that you feel. So paint the sky with your words, paint each and every cloud with love.

Paint the sky. Draw hope in the stars. Draw the smiles and laughter of loved ones in the sunshine.

Draw the joy you feel, the anchoring feeling of digging your toes in the sand when you watch sunsets.

Because those are the stories that come alive every time you see a sunset whenever you look out a window, dearest one.

Yours,
Sophia x

Dear Headspace.

A letter to my old friend, the writer’s headspace.

Dear headspace,

I’ve missed you. I’ve missed having a reason to light a candle, sit myself down and open up a new word document … and simply write.

You’re an old friend where written down transcripts of our chats somehow end up in a piece of writing. You’re a blast of fresh air, the sounds of laughter, and the smell of baked goods and freshly brewed coffee in the air.

I’ve missed the nuances of the words you choose to give me. The difference between when there is no filter and when there is a filter is in place.

You know, there’s an art to epistolary that I haven’t quite discovered; an art that earlier generations seem to have perfected. The art of writing that makes you feel like you were right there sitting with them at their writing desks.

How do I find that art again? Is it through practice? Must I write when you are not visiting, and it feels like I’m living in an empty house too big for one person?

I know, I know. Practice makes perfect. But I’m scared that my writing is just too dull. Not interesting enough to be captivating. I guess there is my communications side reminding me constantly that the “topic is not meaningful enough” to translate into likes, comments, and page views. (ugh, seriously, just let me be!)

Also, I guess I’m struggling to differentiate writing for fun and writing for work. When you’re here and we are having a conversation over a cup of coffee, that distinction is a little bit clearer.

I’ve missed you headspace. You’ve been a bit of a slippery eel, always disappearing when I thought I caught you long enough to stay. But that makes your visits just that little bit sweeter.

Yours,

Sophia

x

PS: Stay long enough next time to teach me a lesson on the art of letter writing?