If I say that I just want to share my heart, or brain, or feelings, or life, or whatever appropriate word goes here, with you, I think that sounds a little arrogant. I mean, who am I, that anyone would want a peek into my thoughts? But then I think, if no one ever visited my website ever again, I would still write. I would still explain how I made another quilt, and I would still describe the fun we had on another field trip, and I would still go into intricate detail about my latest blunder trying to figure out how to fix it. I would also probably complain to my husband that nobody else cares.
So, what's my motivation? Maybe it's a combination of reasons. Writing helps me work out the kinks in my brain, and I want to share with you so you know that underneath all my quietness, there lurks a terribly complex--person. Man, you'd think there would be a more flowery word to end that last sentence, although the important word was lurks. Just kidding, it was complex. :-) As I become more comfortable with myself, I allow others to know more of the inside me, the me that doesn't know all the answers and wouldn't want to even if I could. The me that is painfully slow to love, but once I do, I am loyal to the bitter end. It's hard to let people see those parts of me in real life, but somehow, on paper (computer screen?) it's a tiny bit easier. My new book encourages the practice of transferring the ease of face-to-face relationships into written stories, but maybe eventually I can take the freedom I feel with writing and build better real life friendships.