While visiting my parents about a week ago, my dad asked if I still wrote; I had to think about it. As a child I was always writing something: poetry, the next great contemporary novel, slogans, anything. I won several awards for my writing but as I got older and especially while in college, my writing tapered off. I still kept journals like I had since I was 9 years old, but the creative wiring slowly faded away until I felt like I had lost my gift. In secondary school, when it came to the choice of which branch of studies to pursue, I chose sciences. I wanted to be a doctor like my dad. I remembered him taking me on rounds to the hospital and while at home, I kept the key to his medicine cabinet while he was away. I was so proud of this duty and even more so because I was allowed to dispense medication to the household. So when my dad disputed my decision to go into the medical profession, I was stunned. His reasoning was that i had a talent for the arts but I could not see it. It wasn’t until I declared Psychology as my major n college that I realised how easily the liberal arts came to me. I half heartedly pursued a couple of writing opportunities but I never put as ,much effort into it as I should have partly because I felt like I had lost my talent. Two days ago as I logged in my blog for the first time in months, I saw a quote by some famous dead guy – writing improves with writing. Therefore, in vein with the initial goal of this blog, to better and enrich my life, I am determined to make an entry every two days. Writing about what?I do not know. Let the words flow and hopefully, my gift shall return.


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