Scribblings and Snaps

Soul Searching


Over the years my aunt used to tell me about a time when I was a tot in a restaurant. Apparently a baby girl and I just sat and stared at each other, transfixed. Unimpressive though it sounds now, it sowed seeds in my imagination. And, when you have a mind that goes on without you, each new retelling waters those seeds.

At a similar time to putting pen to paper, or finger (singular) to typewriter as it was in those days, I began another short piece. My Dad ran a television repair shop. A bit of an institution in the village, and only slightly to the left of the centre of the universe to me. When he decided to close it down I tried to capture some of its unique essence in words, only very few of which I made up.

Eventually I merged the two projects into one and developed it through a succession of blogs into what it is today. I have no idea if/how it'll change over the coming years. I'm in the dark just as much as you are.