When I was living with my Dad he always had very odd ideas and he would write letters about his ideas and world views. Me being a visual artist would say to him ‘ why don’t you make a picture or diagram?’ It never occurred to me at the time that writing was just as valid. It was a creative escape and clarified his world view and projects. He wrote thousands of letters over the years. Many didn’t make sense but they followed a logic of their own. It was difficult to read Dad’s letters because they seemed quite critical and personal. Now though I can see the attraction to writing. To setting out ideas and trying to understand the world around you. My own foray into writing books has been a tricky journey to start. There is something very fragile about the written word. It seems so direct and almost a being of its own. It is full of emotion and that is maybe what I find hard about it. It isn’t just a big thumbs up to your mates though it can be. It can be embarressing and revealing. I think though it can be cathartic in that it opens up a conversation about the world and world views in general.