There is a soft slow ache inside me to write my play. It is the raw sweetness of a lover who misses something once loved, with an infinite sadness.
I felt a strong compulsion to finish my stage play even while everyone else seemed to talk books and poetry at a recent writer's festival.
But I knew even then as I do now that it could happen only when I returned to Dublin. I first started off my writing life with newspaper articles and childrens' & adult radio plays that were aired over Radio Malaysia - at least 9 in all if I'm not mistaken.
I haven't written a play for years.
But a seed once sown, never dies.
Now I have reached a space of peace with my writing and it feels to me like a soft warm carpet on which I presently lie, soaked in its melody.
I had placed a rental deposit on a cottage which I was to share with another American playwright in Dublin.
Now, it's time for me to write again.

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