My relationship with writing is like a number of ellipses, each one encompassing the last one and all of them converging at one point; in the beginning, my hangups around writing were many but easily – as they were methodically – overcome but as the problems with my writing became more nebulous, the swing away from active writing grew larger and the distance from the point of convergence of time, opportunity and motivation to write grew further for us. This is so frustrating because writing feels like the confluence of my desires for challenge – writing demands a critical mind to draw a subject from mere content; and creativity to breathe life and form into that subject. It is the domain into which all other specialisations opens and, therefore, it is the hub and essence of modern man.

 

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