by Barbara Maria Rathbone
Well, it has taken a while but I have a found my little corner of the web to write in and ‘A Room of One’s Own’, but I am here now.
I am in the process of starting to write some sort of ‘mission statement’ about my life and have realised just how extraordinary the times are that envelop us now. We live these days in a universe of mutables, where fixity is rare. Not only the economic climate has side shifted so much that the phrase ‘never never’ takes on a renewed resonance, but the very existential centres we must cling to feel tensile at the very least. We can no longer identify to that definite ‘one thing’, but to many things or none. We may make our livings through more than one means and the days of a firm vocation are now elusive to most rather than just the few we used to refer to as drifters and nomads who would never get a ‘proper job’. I would have been one of the latter in any case, but now I am with multitudinous company. It has increasing poetic licence.
So I am an opera-singing, piano playing nomad-pilrgim, writer, wearer of high heels and zen-hippy child out of time, and I love Italy and my soul’s home, Paris. Just for now, I am here, in my own room, which looks like Mimi’s ‘bianca camaretta’, pondering where to go now and trying not to drop my candle in the dark.