As a writer, you often have to write about things near and dear to your heart.

Make that need to write about.

When I walk into a library my worries melt away. That may sound cliche’, but to me it’s an escape, an emotional getaway. A release of the every day life into a realm of the unknown, the unfound and the unread.

It’s a sanctuary.

As a homeschooling mom, the library offers respite like no one else can. My daughter, instantly mesmerized by shiny pink books, quiets and begins looking at titles, cover art; thinking.

Thinking about which book to read first, second and third.

Just like her mother.

I don’t know what I’d do without the library. Would I be able to breathe? I doubt it. It is air to me. The smell of old paper, dust and imagination. Creativity being expressed, shared and experienced. I love the creative process. I love what other people represent. What’s important to them. What must be shared with the world or you will burst. Your belly growing with an unborn child expanding and stretching and moving until you think you are going to die if you don’t get it out. You must get it out into the world and say, “Look! Here’s my baby. My heart. Please be gentle with it. It came from me.”

It came from me. Something came from me that needs to be shared with the world. Whether a book, a song, a show, an artwork, I have to share it.

Or, I might burst.


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