Why I write

At each stair step coming of age: graduating high school, graduating college, marriage, birth of my first child, I dive deeper in. The need to write a calling that pulls me forward, that ties me closer to myself. My writing self grows stronger as I grow older, it is like growing a tail that I trail behind me, sometimes I use it to feel the way ahead, to sense an area I can not turn to look at. I work as a scientist, pour my heart into my infant son, the tail all the time fit neatly through a little slit in my lab coat, my nightgown, my swim suit, my party dress, my lacy play cloths, the indent just above my ass. The tip of the tail is a pen, forever scribbling the way some people narrate in their head to Jesus, or a distant admirer, or a movie star.
I only hope that the scribbles made by my tail later receive the attention and love of my pen and paper to be remembered, nourished, acknowledged.