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about

How much do you want to know about me?

The thing is (at the moment anyway) if you type my name into google, you will find out enough to keep you going for a while:

  • used to work in radio, before running around Herts raising money for a life saving helicopter, before working in communications for a Arthur Rank Hospice Charity in Cambrdige
  • once danced with a box on her head unaware she was being filmed (like you do)
  • scared the nation alongside two boys wearing leotards for a Beyonce Parody (a snippet of which was beamed onto massive LED screens as she did her last world tour – best claim to fame to date, well, alongside sharing spare ribs with Paul Weller…)
  • create beautiful, ethical, unique jewellery inspired by nature:  foundbydawn.co.uk if you fancy checking it out

Maybe it’s good to keep something back I think… whilst embarking on a blog that the whole world can see, if they want to.

“So anyone can see this?” says my slightly horrified Mum;

“You’re revealing the innermost workings of your soul to the world?” from Aunt Gin (sub-text “Why would you want to do that?”).

Well…yes.  It is an odd concept, I agree.  But I have kept diaries on and off for as long as I can remember and I love writing.  Have you ever been surprised to realise that six whole hours have flown by in what felt like ten minutes?  Then you know with certainty that whatever you were doing in those short hours was somehow part of you.  It just feels natural and easy.  So somehow, me not blogging seems odd-er.

And there was a line that stuck me when I read ‘One Day’ (of all novels).  It scared me.  She’s a Yorkshire lass.  She too has this inescapable urge to write and somehow make her own little mark on the world.  She writes one book.  But it’s not the book she was destined to write.  And then she dies.

“…everything she thought or felt vanishes, and is gone forever”.

I’d hate that.  Everything you ever thought or felt (everything that makes you who you are) is rubbed out in a heartbeat.  At least with a blog, even if you die before your time, your thoughts and feelings aren’t redundant.  They’re out there somewhere in cyber space.  Floating around for someone to tune into  if they like.   Who knows?  My ponderings might even be picked up by some super intelligent extra-terrestrial gazillions of light years into the future and matched up with nine years of humble radio mumblings.

See, I’d like to think that in some ways my life is remarkable.  Just like yours.  Worth a moment’s consideration at least.  I’m comforted by the thought, that someone somewhere might appreciate my tiny little path through life.  Maybe it will make them smile.  Maybe it will make them cry, or recoil or gaffaw.  Maybe they won’t want to know.  But maybe they will, and maybe somehow I will help them along on their own little journey.