“You weren’t given wings to see the world from a tree…”

Receiving Atticus’s written word as a gift could not have made me happier, especially after having been left in total awe from Love Her Wild. 

Atticus does very well to subtly intertwine events in our lives that can & do render us ecstatic or otherwise feeling a little less than okay. However, unlike other works of poetry, he does not compartmentalise his words into those that evoke happiness or sadness. Unlike poetry that I have read in recent times, his words left me comforted rather than alone or upset as I reflected upon any past tribulations. In fact, one gentle page turn takes the reader from feelings of uncertainty to hope; from regret to mindful retrospect & from wishing to doing.

Atticus forces the reader to come face-to-face with difficult possibilities: having something of value taken away; having to go on a journey- physically, mentally & emotionally- alone, or considering that some painful memories could have or should have been prevented.

He boldly reminds the reader that nobody is alone. Everybody has, at the very least, an internal form of struggle behind their very strong exterior. Life would not be half as invigorating, thrilling, jaw-dropping, a privilege & a blessing were it not for the sunny days & stormy nights; the laughter & tears; the certainty & angst.

Atticus has a remarkable gift, for his words elicit a feeling within any reader, no matter their ‘walk of life’. Though I do not live in Paris, for instance, his affinity with cafés reminded me of my own love for passing time, with a cuppa & comforting company, in independent coffee shops in London.

His ability to speak to many on a universal scale makes this book far too tempting not to grab & enjoy with feet up, a blanket & a tissue box nearby, just in case.

Sincerely,

𝒮𝒽ℯℯ𝓏𝒶

✍︎