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Raised by a florist and a scientist, one side of me is colourful and attractive the other is cold hard fact in a test tube.
First got into poetry when I picked up an old copy of T.S Eliots selected poems and couldn't stop reading the lines...
"(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust."
I couldn't explain why I liked it so much, it seemed to reach inside of me and get a hold of my beating heart without me ever understanding why or how it was there, but it was there and ever since then I've wanted to repeat this action on other people with my own writing.
Some close friends have been flattering enough to say that my writing has touched them in some way and sometimes I almost believe them - but I can never be sure. Often I think writing is such a fruitless task yet i still do it (have to do it) just in case I genuinely do repeat that same feeling within someone else thus perpetuating the cycle and in a way procreating on a creative level.
I think I've said enough.
Harmonica's Genres: Magical realism, Cod, Philosophy, Science fiction, Nature, Haddock, Humour, Enlightenment, Gnosticism
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