“I note however that this diary writing does not count as writing, since I have just re-read my year’s diary and am much struck by the rapid haphazard gallop at which it swings along, sometimes indeed jerking almost intolerably over the cobbles. Still if it were not written rather faster than the fastest type-writing, if I stopped and took thought, it would never be written at all; and the advantage of the method is that it sweeps up accidentally several stray matters which I should exclude if I hesitated, but which are the diamonds of the dustheap.”
~*~ Virginia Woolf ~*~
April 20, 1919
This quote has stuck with me my whole writing life, 50 years or so (I will be 68 on Saturday but I have written seriously since I was 9. Writing saved my life enduring, at such a young age and until I was about 18, serious sexual and emotional abuse.) I wrote stories, poems, essays, but the thing I mainly did was keep diaries. At one point, around 50, I had almost 500 diaries burned, a whole other story, mainly because I had been so painfully honest about everything I didn’t want my children to read them. But Virginia Woolf was a great teacher, a muse, and someone I admired in a bit of a complex way. I had read all of her books, reread, many times, her diaries and letters, but the thing that I was mostly drawn to, as a child of longterm abuse and lifelong mental health issues, was how she dealt with being creative while mentally ill. She produced masterpieces, but it didn’t end well for her as we all know. I wanted to learn from her how to write successfully without having to end up walking into the River Ouse with my pockets filled with stones. I almost ended up there, not in the Ouse but in my own version of ending things because I felt I could bear no more, but something always pulled me back. And the days of wanting to end my life are long past.
I loved so very much of her work, who could not love Mrs. Dalloway for example? but it was the diaries and the letters that held my heart. That was so many years ago. Shreds, torn pieces from notebooks, memories of reading and writing non-stop over endless cappuccinos in cafés which is the way I wrote most of my life before agoraphobia crept in and finally took hold, but this quote… diamonds in the dustheap, I have used over and over in my writings, written countless times in my own journals as a reminder, and now, as I turn 68 in 2 days and am writing a book unlike anything I have ever written before, they all come back to me. Virginia whispers in my ear, “Look for the diamonds darling, find the diamonds, it’s all you need to do.”
Too, her admonition, “No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.” gives me courage. It’s not too late for me. I can return to my roots as a serious writer at 68, and I needn’t hurry, or sparkle, or be anyone but myself. And there are diamonds, so many diamonds in the dustheap of my life. I can only, now, as I grow older, see them shimmering in the dross of years past. Too, I think of it as squinting my eyes to see the lost images under layers of paint in an old painting. Pentimento. I have always loved that word and the idea that though time may have painted over so many lost pieces of my life, they still show through in the right light.
And so I am in search of diamonds. Not hurrying, not looking for the shiny objects that were the sparkling moments of my life, but the moments that shimmer, briefly, through the hours of my days now, as well as pieces of lost memories. I wake up each day to capture a thought, a revelation, a little sketch, a gentle breeze on my cheek sitting on my deck watching the birds and the squirrels. I want to record the life of an old woman who, though disabled and living in solitude and silence, finds the diamonds still available to her in the life she lives now. They are there, they are all around in every single day, like the blowsy pink rose sitting here on my desk, so fragrant, from the garden I planted and can no longer tend. But it is there, still, to enjoy, and the sandalwood candle burning beside me, and my small, soft, cuddly Molly who sleeps snuggled into me after I cover her with kisses, and the old books I am pulling off the shelves again to reread. Diamonds. So many diamonds. And, writing longhand, I capture them with the tip of my pen.
“‘No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.’ gives me courage. It’s not too late for me.” I love this, it gives me hope because I have all kinds of creative and artistic things percolating at a gently rolling simmer in my mind.
Ah Marge isn’t that inspiring? I want to make a little sign that says that here for my desk! And artistic things coming at a gently rolling simmer is just right! 😊
Oh my dear friend, yes, I know what you mean about finding diamonds each and everyday. You go capture them and put them down in words. For you are a diamond yourself and we all love you for it Xx
Oh sweet sweet Emmy you are so kind, and you, too, my dear friend, are a diamond. Focusing on the diamonds in our lives is just the best possible way to live I think? 🥰
Just today i received a text from my daughter with a Virginia Woolf quote: “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.” I had to laugh because that very quote made it into my on-going (endlessly) episodic novel, in which the main character, Marla, loves Virginia Woolf. So much synchronicity if one can see it! Virginia was a bit hard on herself, there were lots of diamonds, amazing turns of phrase, not just in her novels but yes in her diaries. Not as much “dustheap” as she modestly asserted. Yes, your life, and mine, are full of worth, of beauty, of creation, of wonder, as well as sadness and pain and sorrow, but those too, in a special way, are also diamonds because they teach us compassion, and self-love. Carry on, birthday girl. PS I love today’s graphic very much, the woman sitting in the lotus pose, with that marvelous scarf flying in the breeze!
Oh my Darling Ka, you are so much a part of the fabric of my heart and I believe we have truly been sisters in many lifetimes. And Virginia, oh dear Virginia. I spent last night watching lots of YouTube videos on her life and work and there are many more I want to watch. And I so grok what you are saying when you say “not as much “dustheap” as she modestly asserted.” I’ve had plenty of dustheaps in my diaries but I always felt that when Virginia wrote it she was being ironic because I’ve read the diaries and letters many times and I don’t see many dusty bits there! But then, and this is what touches me so deeply, did she really know? I don’t think even she realized the magnificence of her opus including the diaries and letters. I just bought, for my Kindle, for $4.99, the complete works of VW, It is staggering. ALL of the novels, essays, articles, diaries, letters, EVERYTHING for $4.99! I want, very much right now, to have the writers who shaped my life, as well as my writing life, near me. VW, Colette, May Sarton, and others. And thank you so much for your kind words about the drawing. The new book will have this kind of art in it. That is on a page facing the section I wrote about what I touched on in this blog post, and it is me, really me, not some fanciful image of Maisie or the ones I’ve drawn in the last many months.
On the eve of my 68th birthday I am so full, so happy, I am finding my way, and I feel I am right beside you as you are finding your way with your work as well. Oh, there is some magic happening here, and I could not be more delighted. More beauty and wonders come with age than I ever knew, despite physical issues and all the rest. I feel like I am just now beginning to see the world and my place in it. In my small corner of the world I have work to do and I am revelling in it. Carry on dear sister, carry on. And I love you dearly, always and always…. 🥰💗🤗
I was going to respond last night, but my brain was gooey and didn’t want to string words together…
I was a little surprised by the ending of your blog, as if you stopped mid-thought. It seems as though there’s an unwritten “to be continued” there.
I’m out with Jonathan running errands and soaking in a bit of ambiance at the moment: children playing outside at recess at the school across the street, folks seated and chatting in a coffeehouse. We’ve just enjoyed our monthly breakfast out at our favorite local diner, and are about to jump into the heart of the day.
It’s Beltane this weekend, which means dancing around the Maypole! I’ll sneak a toast to you on your birthday among all the revelry.
Much Love and Many Blessings to you and the Fur & Feather crew!
Ha ha ha, oh Victoria…. You know when I wrote that last line I felt I should be saying more but I also felt I had come to an end point and so I stopped. I will be blogging much more here now as well as on Patreon so it’s kind of an ongoing dialogue. Patrons will get the most of it. And I’m so glad that you and Jonathan have had such a lovely day out!
It is Bealtaine weekend. If you have never watched them there are wonderful videos by a woman named Colette O’Neil about Bealtaine cottage in Ireland and they are magical. As a middle aged woman she bought 3 acres and a broken down cottage and for 13 years has planted hundreds, maybe thousands of trees and made gorgeous gardens and so much more and her lilting Irish voice just soothes my soul. She is pagan and Celtic and her work is much about the Goddess. I think you would love her. Here’s a link to her YouTube Channel which has been going on for many years…
https://www.youtube.com/c/bealtainecottage/featured
Have a beautiful weekend honey. I love you dearly….
Maitri 💗