I grew up in the United Kingdom, the country of almost all my emotions, and to this day dislike frontal questions about ‘me’.
Almost all, I say, because I was born in Addis Ababa in the highlands of Ethiopia, a country which is a paradise. Very rich in everything which forms the heart (as are all civilizations). And how could it not form a part of mine?
I have lived in the United States for many years and in the photo I am taking a photo of one of the many guardian, painted birds of an American friend. My mother loved birds and they came to her because she took care of them and loved them.
I don’t anguish much about what I am because what matters most is usually what we do or do not do with what we are. Cultures do not reduce to each other and the values of one are often in conflict with the values of another to suspend a whole life in ambiguity, anxiety and pain. They resolve the problems of our lives in different ways. That is all that can be said about them.
I decided when I was young that my home is the English language. I love it, its histories and its futures. I love French, too; but, as with all things French from the Anglo viewpoint, the love is more complicated.
I came to see how every culture is a treasury and so I am a very lucky girl that I have had more than a passing glimpse of so many.
I am happy wherever English is spoken and understood. As on this blog which represents moments in my life.
And I have had and have, despite all confounding and hard realities, all things weighed, a wonderful life.