A Pause for Reflection....
Regretfully, I have not updated my blog recently as much as I had done keenly and dutifully with my previous posts; I do feel a tad bit guilty at letting my post-worthy 'thoughts' standards slip...
As a choice, I decided to allow myself some time away from the necessity of constantly updating this blog thus risking it becoming a monotonous chore ticked off the to-do list. It's a delicate requirement gathering my thoughts together along with providing some of my personal images to have something worthy of sharing with you rather than induce a vomit-explosion of words with no real depth or real intention behind it, if you catch my drift.
I'm probably just nattering on and you're sitting there thinking: 'Zohra, just get on with the point, the title looked interesting enough and now you're whinging about not posting recently, we're here reading aren't we?!'
I've wanted to post this for a while now, it has just been sitting in my drafts but I felt it was quite personal to share and probably even surprising for those of you who know me.
Over the last few months, I had been rethinking my love for writing.
Cue dramatic pause for effect.
For those of you who have stumbled across my site or do not know me very well, let me explain. Since I was 8 years old, I had a fixated mind, literally on writing. From playing 'Lois Lane and Clark Kent Metropolis News Desk' games with my long-suffering, patient saint of a brother to the attempt of setting up my primary school newsletter ( ALL ON MY OWN! I WAS DEVASTATED WHEN MY TEAM ABANDONED SHIP BECAUSE THEY WERE NOT BOTHERED! Clearly I still have deep emotional problems about this...) writing had always been a passion of mine, whether it was through the form of poems, articles, creative writing or random diary entries in my Secret Padlock Diary courtesy of Crayola Creations every 8 year old needed in 2001.
I never once was tempted to be swayed from my decision, it certainly never wavered throughout my childhood and teenagehood, unlike friends' career decisions at 12 'I don't know what I want to be/ I want to be an artist/teacher/banker/etc'. My family saw it happening and so it became inevitable as I landed several internships and wrote for magazines both online and paper and attaining a place at the prestigious Young Journalist Academy for teenage journalist wannabes.
I guess it was at university I began to have my doubts, I somehow did not enjoy writing as much (most probably due to the intensity of the essays we had to endure over the term) and found it stressful to try and ease words from my pen and enjoy it as I had done writing on my old blog heyhothesmartestthingsheeversaid.tumblr.com/ or interning for magazines/publications such as Emel and The Cut.
Thus, I began rethinking my career options after I attended an English Careers evening and saw the range of careers I could dabble in with my degree. Now don't get me wrong, of course I knew I could do anything with it, but I suppose I started reevaluating my choices and being more flexible with my decisions and realising I don't have to have a finalised life plan. Of course, it's great to have goals you wish to achieve but certainly one must roll with the punches and whatever life throws in your way, take it. That evening was a punch that I (metaphorically) rolled with.
Of course now I am working at a school for the year in the English Department and this is by far, a stark contrast to my chosen career. I threw myself into the adventure of what was a different path in the beginning and even convinced myself that teaching was for me. I did love how I am able to make a difference to my students' work and their approach to English. I wanted students' to be as passionate about English as I was throughout school but now I think whilst I love my job and helping students, teaching is not for me.
I really missed being able to pen my thoughts and experiences, relishing the words that would adorn reviews I'd be asked to write about or features I'd eagerly research into, immersing myself in the information and being able to share this experience with readers. 'Writing is the painting of a voice' is the phrase I have come to appreciate greatly during this period of reflection. I also began to crave the unpredictable, fast paced lifestyle that comes with writing. Attending press day events, taking photographs, meeting deadlines, networking with like minded individuals and interviewing inspirational people and then going home to collate my experience and thoughts through 'word craft' was all part of the fun that came with it...
Slowly I began to get involved with my writing again, reading online magazines, penning a few poems here and there, thinking about creating a new blog (hence Whims Of A Wordcrafter!) until I came across the publications I am involved with now: Birthday Magazinee and The Clothes Maiden.Honestly, all I can say now is I am glad I looked back and remembered what I really wanted and love doing.
Attending the likes of press day events at the Piccaso to Warhol Art Exhibition to Martin Creed's 'What's The Point of It' exhibition to JH Beulah's boutique bash and W Hotel Zalando Lounge's Press Day: writing again has definitely brought me back to the world of journalism.
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| Here's a cheeky look at my business cards ;-) |
P.S I promise I will write about all of the above mentioned events in due course!
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