I am Tatum Hart, a writer, wife and mother of one sweet, spongy-pink-cheeked baby girl. I grew up in Louisville, Kentucky with two older sisters and a handful of dogs and cats. It is likely that I will edit this page over and over in an effort to capture and articulate the points in my life I feel are most important: Jesus Christ, my husband and daughter, and my writing. Personally, I love reading a blogger’s about page. I like to know the context behind their posts if possible.
My oldest sister kept journals for her poems and Beatles lyrics, so when I was 11 years old I decided to try the journal thing myself. Before I started this blog, I thumbed through all my old diaries filled with big bubble-cursive words written in pencil, signatures of my closest friends at the time, acronyms like BFF, K-I-T, so and so loves so and so encased in the shape of a heart…4-Ever…doughy-eyed doodles, and tween-angst poetry. I took to heart how it has evolved over the last 25 years into a very necessary and joyful part of my life.
My first journal, a 5×8, glossy covered book with a print of painted flowers on the cover, lasted me the whole of middle school. By 8th grade, the rebellious, willful and angry nature of my pre-teen self, those traits that barely glimmered when I started the journal shone in full array – I want what I want – to do what I want – to look how I want – to be friends with whom I want and underlying all of it, a developing melancholy that just kinda took over by my freshman year in high school.
Another year would pass before I embraced detachment, turned inward, wore black and lots of eyeliner. That’s when I clung to my journal and made it my voice. I still write to have a voice but with a voice that has been redeemed.
I am a Christian. I responded to Jesus about a year after my husband and I were married.
Myke is a brilliant man – an engineer, no pretenses, loyal and capable of fixing anything he gets his hands on, many times making it better than it was before and he is an atheist.
Throughout our 14 years of marriage, when I think I couldn’t possibly be anymore impressed by him, I am once again amazed by his ingenuity and somewhat aspergery-wit. Although there is a great deal of difficulty and a real sense of loneliness that goes along with a spiritually mismatched marriage, I have learned more about God and His character through our marriage than in any other institution.
Finally, I write because, well, I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t. I am pursuing a Bachelors of Fine Arts in Creative Writing because I just can’t shake the need, the compulsion to put words down on paper. It’s like feeding a stray cat until it has decided to take up residence at my back door. Since then, a relationship has developed, even love and tossing out some scraps here and there isn’t enough anymore.