I am truly honored to be nominated for the Vincent Ehindero Blogger Award. A huge thank you to Darell Philip for nominating me. Darell is an amazing blogger himself, and the fact he recognized my work as worthy of an award is an honor in itself. Please check out his blog and give him a follow!
I would also like to thank Vincent Ehindero for creating this award. As bloggers and writers, it is very important that we support one another and stick together. This award embodies that. Thank you for giving us a platform to grow from and support one another. Please also check out his blog and give him a follow.
1. Thank the person who nominated you with a link to their blog. 2. Make a post of the award (with a photo of the logo). 3. Post the rules 4. Ask 5-10 questions of your choice. 5. Nominate 10-30 other bloggers (or more) and notify them.
Here are my responses to Darell’s questions:
1. What is an example of something good to have come from your lockdown experience?
Answer: In my lockdown experience, I have been able to spend a lot of time with my family that I am very grateful for. Also, I have been able to dedicate a lot of time to my writing and this blog. My love for writing has truly blossomed.
2. Which blog is currently your favourite and post the link here?
Answer: I blog simply because I love writing. Since I was a child I have had a rather large imagination. When I played with my toys I would always come up with stories for them. I didn’t begin my own writing until I was older, and didn’t find my true love for it until more recently. I firmly believe that I was born to write. I am still growing and a lot of what I write isn’t perfect, but I enjoy it nonetheless. It warms my heart when others love my writing, too.
4. What are the features of a great blog?
Answers: I believe what makes a blog great is if it comes from a place of love and creativity. If you blog about something you love, whether that be writing, travel, or even food, it makes it great.
5. Who is your favourite writer and why?
Answer: My favorite writer is Stephen King. So often I say I would love to just get inside of his mind and listen to his thoughts. I love the way he writes and develops characters. I also love how he focuses on the human experience and how they handle the unexplainable. Stephen King’s book On Writing has also been a huge influence.
6. What is your favourite book and why?
Answer: My favorite book currently is Stephen King’s Institute. It is one of his most recent novels. The reason I love it is because the main character is a child and I believe it shows how children are capable of incredible things, more than adults often realize.
7. Where in the world would you like to take a vacation?
Answer: Australia has always been my dream destination.
8. When is the best time to write/blog?
Answer: Often my best thoughts come at night, so that’s the best time for me.
9. Where does your motivation to write/blog come from?
Answer: My motivation comes from my love for writing.
10. If you had the opportunity to be stuck on a desert island with anyone from history to the present day, who would that person be and why?
Answer: I would choose either Stephen King or Stephen Hawking. King because he could teach me so much about writing and share his thoughts with me. I know I would leave that island a better writer. Hawking because his mind fascinates me and I look up to him for the fact that he never let his disability define him. He continued doing what he loved the most.
I have not always known where I belong. A searching deep within my soul led me down paths with dead ends. My heart led down roads to places never meant to travel. With you, my heart found refuge. A place to rest. A place to be whole.
A place of belonging is where I came to. The place where I wish I would have found long ago – the place I was meant to be. You wrap me in comfort and warmth. I hope to remain there forever. Where I belong, tucked away in your arms.
Aislinn lived amongst the fallen branches of Kapok trees deep in the rainforest. Her home was a small cave with a front door made of leaves.
Almost translucent skin adorned her face, with lips a pouty red and features small but beautiful.
As she awoke every day she placed flowers in her tied up hair. The chilliness of her home was welcomed compared to the smothering heat of the forest. Her only friends were the creatures that many feared. She likened herself to them.
Men and women alike avoided her. Tales spread of a nymph living in a cave among the most deadly. She knew not of why she was cast out, only that she was different than them.
Man was born to inevitable death while she would live a thousand lifetimes. The woman’s face would grow wrinkly with time, but hers would stay smooth. She could crinkle her forehead hundreds of times and no line would embed itself in her face.
Scarlet eyes pierced through the leaves at the front of her cave, watching the forest around her.
Birds flew in flocks on wings of rainbow feathers. They circled around one another in a mystical dance, one that she wished to participate in. Her own flock, was yet to be found.
She retreated into her cave and laid down on her makeshift bed of twigs where she dreamt of flying with her birds of a feather.
She lie stripped bare in tall grass. Dew drops surround strands of dark black hair and cold wind fondles her porcelain skin.
A bruised and bloody hand reaches out to touch the small white flowers that sway in front of her. Her nails come into her focus. The blood and dirt caked underneath causes her last meal of scraps of bread to rise in her throat. A burning enters as she tries to swallow it.
Her hands return to her own body, feeling the deep scratches, soon to be scars, underneath her fingertips. A tear escapes from her blue eyes as she lay her head back on the grass. The coldness of the forest floor chills the back of her neck causing the hairs to stand up on her arms.
A faint sound of hooves comes from the West and she remembers that black horse that led the stranger into her village. His appearance shielded in all grey. A warrior, she supposed, but not a noble one.
She sat up quickly, hugging her bare chest with her arms. Her eyes shifted searching for that black horse. Deep down she knew he wouldn’t come back. All was destroyed, and for all he knew she was, too.
Maybe she was destroyed. Only time would tell.
Her knees wobbled as she stood. Silently, she dusted herself off and ventured back to her home. Nothing remained for her to find.
Dust filled the air as her feet trudged though the ashes left behind. A glimmer caught her eye and she quickly turned towards it. As she walked closer, a familiar locket filled her vision. She stooped to pick it up and rolled it in her palms.
She snapped the locket open to see pictures of her siblings and herself. The corners of her lips turned up into a slight smile. Her heart warmed at the sight of them. She closed the locket once more and placed it around her neck. It shown bright against the rumble around her and the dirt that smeared her skin.
For all her days, that locket shown bright gold around her.