I graduated from my university with a degree in Creative Writing which essentially qualifies me for one thing: to tell people that I can read and I can write okay and they should pay me money to do it.
I joke (sort of), but the reality is that creative majors are harder. Because where a science major or an engineering major is able to provide a fair bit of proof through their diploma alone that they are qualified to do what they are wanting to do and that they can earn the money you throw at them, writers and artists and musicians and the like are usually dependent on skill. That doesn’t mean a nursing major doesn’t need to be skillful, or a kinesiology major either, but a diploma that reads, “Bachelor of Arts in Music” conveys little, if anything, when shown.
We’re craftsmen in that way, honing a skill we love with the knowledge that our lives depend on it. And because of that, we’re better with ourselves in the long run–if we can simply stay the course.
So to prove to myself, and you (whoever you are), that I am, indeed, staying true, this section will be used to journal some poems that I’ve written over the course of my career. Some will be older, some will be recent, but they’ll all be poems of my own, and will serve to bring back some old writings from when I’d only just begun.
Enjoy them, read multiples; I’ve near forgotten some of them, and leave some feedback somewhere–I’ll need it.