Thank You

I spoke with an old pal yesterday. He said I inspired him to write after he saw my collection of handwritten books, that was in ’06 I think, so he has been writing and he wanted to know, what to do with the volumes? I told him I have mine locked up in a box, for which I misplaced the key.

I had texted him to ask-was he alright? We are very alike so I haven’t been too worried that we haven’t communicated in a while. I tend to take a break from communication sometimes, and from friends and family, then while I’m getting on with life thinking all is alright, someone shows up at my door wanting to know- Is something wrong?

So my Pal, he’s the one who suggested I get on blogger since I had trouble posting on my webpage.

When he called, I thought it was one of my editors asking why I haven’t sent a story I had opened my mouth to say I had but can’t get round it, so I was pensive, until he laughed.

I guess it’s because of the ease at which me and this old friend can talk. After a year, 3, we just continue from where we left, no pressure, no questions, or judgment on the other’s choice of life.

-So you decided to become a fish trader in Lake Victoria? Fine, what have you written lately?

Whenever I feel unsure or unsettled about my writing, on instinct I end up tracing Ken and if we meet up for a chat, I end up getting any pilled up energy and writing. He taught me that writing, being an art should be taken seriously, we were looking at the art displayed at the Hilton Art shop one evening . “ We are all artists, when humans don’t discover their artistic side, they turn to the basic art of creating.”

Onetime, as I was writing my 2^nd novel, I caught malaria and was struggling to write between sick spells. Ken came over, we chat over kahawa no.1( Rough coffee that needs extensive boiling to taste like coffee). I felt better after, and finished my novel.

So this week when I called Ken, we chat and I finally managed to write two stories from my last trip, which is a relief.