journey to the first poetry and prose book & gratitude
i could not even tell you why
there was a rose
and what your name in my notebook
was written for.
this is a book of faltering confessions, an expression of coming upon less familiar human proximities, and a perpetual stream of first time's.
the bedrock of this piece
three words away includes writings from when i was sixteen until nineteen, when catching glimpses of intimacy among people was a mixture of fresh impressions and unravelling.
partly yearning, partly being in someone's shoes, partly resonating — i poured on a paper an adolescence's picture of the still-vague world of bond, bursting at the seams with both tenderness and detachment.
binding the pages
early days with the manuscript
first provisional cover
one of the cover options i tallied with other perspectives
printing the final cover before publishing
speaking of the world of bond
my writer friends;
my teachers in English, communication, creative writing, and values;
my inspirations who are poets, literary writers, and artists;
my best friends;
my family and relatives;
my father and my mother and my older brother;
the Being of Love:
my Creator,
wholehearted thank you for this possibility.
vienne lesaca