Ashoka has been in Sanchi. . .

I've written since I got a pencil in your hand for the first time. Before I could read and write, I made small comics with stick people. As soon as I spell, I started making stories and poems, and I wrote page after page. Wrote diary. Used it as therapy and as a good friend, I could always pour from and who I could trust. When I was twelve, I got a beautiful red leather-bound diary with gold edges of my older brother. There was a lock on the book, and I began to write nicely and neatly in it. One day I asked my brother unit conversion if he would read what I had written, he looked at it and said no. It was something unit conversion very personal unit conversion that I should keep to myself. Since I wrote on, and it was for many handwritten papers and stuffed china books purchased for very little money. All closely described. Page after page about holidays and feelings, my thoughts about life and the meaning of it or the lack thereof, hassles with it and later on the children's upbringing. . . All of it was hidden in a drawer, and I showed it never to anyone. When I few months ago cleaned up my old house to move from it and put the past behind me, I found some of my old diaries in the dresser drawer. I flipped through them quickly, read a bit sporadic - and so I threw them out. Years of my life thrown on the scrap heap, shredded and burned, and that's fine. What I remember, I do not need to have black on white. It sits in my heart, in my muscles, in my tear ducts, my gray hair and my smile lines. . . Something, I have saved, and it is on the computer that last year I switched out to honor a faster model. . . Since I got it, I have written more than ever, and maybe my writings bring joy to others than myself. At the request of a good friend, I volunteered for a month ago on an online course author, and last Saturday I was on my first day of the course at Saxo.com - one 'selvudgiverdag' that gave me a taste to do something about the dream I have had since my very first pencil was sharpened. . . Yesterday I found the story of 'Jean-Baptiste' again. A story about a different side of myself, my alter ego. A medieval novel that I wrote twelve years ago. Back then, I get a few publishers, as both were interested unit conversion in publishing it, but time or luck, or whatever it was, was not with me, and the story was hidden. Now I read the three hundred pages through and see what I will do to them. . .
Journey to India My first blog I started when I toured India in January-February 2012. A very special and very different journey than I have been accustomed to in the past. I saw so much in every way, and it was great to be able to write about it and know that there were many friends unit conversion and people I knew who had followed. I learned about other people, another culture, and I learned a lot about myself. Since I got home, there is not a day has gone, without my having thought of an episode, a place, a man I met in India. The trip gave me SO much - not least gave me new energy. Why I chose the name 'life energy' both to the new website, I made when I came home, and to my new blog. For it is energy, I will continue to write about - what it is, how we get it or lose it, and what we can do to take care of our energy and feel better. Happy reading - and you have suggestions or comments, I hear know. View my complete profile
2015 (3) February (1) January (2) 2014 (32) March (3) February (18) January (11) 2013 (48) December (1) August (1) July (5) June (4) May (8) My new toy. . . Birthday again again again. . . From the country where pineapples unit conversion are growing - and from my oak ... Nostalgia over a lovely spring cake. . . Hooray for my bike !!! A déjà vu From quill to keys. . . There are so lovely countryside. . . April (8) March (11) February (7) January (3) 2012 (8) November (2) October (6)
Ashoka has been in Sanchi. . .
Sightseeing in Sanchi. . . Then there been photographed - on a little, we also ...