Yesterday, I found this badge amongst all the clutter on my kitchen windowsills. It's from a show I saw in Edinburgh many years ago. I can't even remember much about it, except that it was quirky and whimsical and we all liked it. This funny little badge has somehow stuck with me through several moves, including the big one to the other side of the world. Many other, more treasured things, have been lost along the way. How on earth do I still have it in my possession? And why is it hanging out on my kitchen windowsill? Anyway, whatever - it got me thinking about connection and quite how unconnected I feel right now. If studying creative writing taught me anything, it's that being part of a community of writers is so much better than not being part of one. That year was ridiculously tough (I spent a lot of time crying over my laptop), but I loved all the discussions we had about each others work, the hours spent drinking tea and coffee very slowly in cafes and scrawling in our notebooks alongside each other. It was a special time and obviously, life can't always be like that, but I miss those connections over writing. I have some gorgeous friends, who I love talking to about books, but I guess what I crave is colleagues; people who are trying to create art and dealing with the same struggles that I am. I want to make those creative connections because even though writing is a solitary pursuit, friends, especially ones who share your passion, really do make life so much better.