An Artist's Legacy - Hefty, Brenda Jean
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Brenda Jean was a Second World War baby, who would not see her father until she was nearly two years old. She grew up the older of three children and was a good example for her sister and brother. She was a gifted child and loved all things artistic and she strove to become a part of that world, in some way. Brenda did attempt artistic endeavors, however, her capricious father forbid any exuberance on her part, even when she was applauded for her efforts to show others her talents. In time Brenda withdrew any thought of showing off her talent and eventually held back any thought of asking for…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Brenda Jean was a Second World War baby, who would not see her father until she was nearly two years old. She grew up the older of three children and was a good example for her sister and brother. She was a gifted child and loved all things artistic and she strove to become a part of that world, in some way. Brenda did attempt artistic endeavors, however, her capricious father forbid any exuberance on her part, even when she was applauded for her efforts to show others her talents. In time Brenda withdrew any thought of showing off her talent and eventually held back any thought of asking for praise. Although, over time she found a solution through writing and most specifically poetry. Brendas poetry spans three decades and, for most was kept stowed away among her personal affects ,only to be found by me, after she had passed away in April 2023. Brendas amazing talent in creating poetry will now receive the applause it deserves, since her ability and skill is now available for all to enjoy.
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Autorenporträt
Poetry is my way of handling my intense sense of involvement and responsibility. The sister inside who seemed for so many years to be pointing the critical finger, I now realize, has been pointing to the pen. Recently each time I have found myself uncomfortably alone I have known it is time for a poem. I don't have to make the choice to write, just be aware of my own discomfort. In the past this sent me into a panic, fearing I would abuse the gift of time. I find I am learning to relax into my own emptiness and not struggle to fill it with physical excess.