She believes that before MS began its insidious infiltration, there was no writing in her. That, somehow, the damaging changes that shut down certain functions in her brain also opened up other unused areas that housed a secret love affair with language and all its delicious sights and sounds and feelings.
(She even wrote a poem about this experience. More about this in a moment.)
Before MS, she had never felt any real need or desire to pursue words or congregate or research them -- never mind put them on paper so that others could read them.
Although her first foray into creative writing was fiction (a Capilano College writing contest presented a fun little challenge and scored her more money than she’s made from writing anything since), she found herself fascinated by poetics—reaching, writing, digging into the challenge of wresting maximum meaning from minimum words. Now she just plain digs it.
Here’s the poem Kim wrote about MS opening her brain to the beauty of language:
My body held poetry for ransom,
first with a little finger
[accidental pizzicato], next
my left foot.
The price was high, mind had to pay up
to make room for the lyric line.
The bootie crossed the blood-brain barrier,
[nothing to do with fair trade]
—poetic packets of plasma data
on the back of stealthy protein
hugged the perimeter,
stole through the interior
over the border—
words worth their weight
Click here to subscribe to Kim's mailing list.