Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

A single word can lead the mind to traces of contemplation. They are like silences that take over, holding you uncomfortable for so long. Like fault lines and shifting plates that require you to invade the part of your brain where words are like air, forcing you to breathe in, breathe out.

A couple of days ago, the word was polemical and it was used to describe a piece of writing I had done. I am often asked how I start writing here and to be honest, it’s the desire to do as Mary Oliver once noted; I pay attention, I am forever astonished and I will do my part to write it out. This to me is why writing matters, why if it’s not polemical or stubborn, unyielding or headstrong, then maybe it’s not writing at all.

This year I want to write things that interest me, things that take me down twisting path, things uncomfortable, things full of adversities and aspirations, things that begin with lines by Morrison or Clifton, things always full of complexities and possibilities, not in an effort to fix my writing to please your eyes, but to force all of us, you and me, to be stubborn with life. In the end two moments will matter, the day you are born and the day you die. Everything else is noise. So make the loudest noise, do so eloquently and in your way and if someone finds it stubborn or rude, at least they heard you speak, they heard your noise.