"The quality of life is in proportion, always, to the capacity for delight. The capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention." ~ Julia Cameron, The Artist's Way
the writers life
It is well
Especially if they are ordinary, common words, but dancing on the page in a way that sweeps me up and pulls me into another sphere, that is a gifted writer. And I will stop, and hold the book to my chest, and sigh, and hold onto the moment for a moment.
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Clearing Space
There is wisdom in these woods. It is time to begin again.
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Body in Motion
My mood is always more settled, almost nestled in and snug and happy, when I am tending to the needs of my soul.
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Books will Save Us
I have gotten out of the habit of writing, and my world is suffering. The walls start closing in on me when my creativity is on hiatus. When I am drawn like a moth to bad news, and the marching feet of the demise of our civilization, I sit stoop-shouldered and spineless and terrified - … Continue reading Books will Save Us
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Roaring Quiet of an Open Space
How incredibly odd. My mind is still. I have been in constant conflict for so long, I don't know what to do with a settled, contentedness. I will learn. For so long, there was always at the back of my mind a battle raging. There was so much love, and yet so much disappointment … Continue reading Roaring Quiet of an Open Space
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Like Gold or Emerald or Purple Repeating to Itself
No matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be good. Like gold or emerald or purple repeating to itself, "No matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be emerald, my color undiminished." ~ Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (A.D. 121-180), Meditations And yet, it is such a joy to be … Continue reading Like Gold or Emerald or Purple Repeating to Itself
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Let the Whole Thing Flower
Katagiri Roshi says, "Our goal is to have kind consideration for all sentient beings every moment forever." This does not mean put a good poem on paper and then spit at our lives, curse our cars, and cut off someone on the freeway. It means carry the poem away from the desk and into … Continue reading Let the Whole Thing Flower
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“But The Kettle’s on the Boil and We’re so Easily Called Away”
We're so sorry Uncle Albert But we haven't done a bloody thing all day We're so sorry Uncle Albert But the kettle's on the boil and we're so easily called away This song popped into my head when the boys arrived home from school, and I realized that I hadn't done much today, but read … Continue reading “But The Kettle’s on the Boil and We’re so Easily Called Away”
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The Sustenance of the Psyche
My father told me when I was young that "Thoughts untangle themselves when they cross our lips or pencil tips." We develop as humans when we discuss ideas with others, or when we wrestle them out on paper. When we are in dialogue - either with others or internally - we learn and grow and … Continue reading The Sustenance of the Psyche
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Mystics Hear Voices
Mystics hear voices. the question "Do you hear voices?" is used to sort the sane from the insane. And yet, as artists, we do hear voices and most insistently when we seek the guidance for our art. We are led. We are prompted. We are urged. We are called. ~ Julia Cameron, from The Complete … Continue reading Mystics Hear Voices
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Soul Candy
As artists living with the drone of commerce, we have forgotten that "rest" is a musical term, and that to hear the music of our lives as something other than a propulsive drumbeat, driving us forward as the war drums drove men into bloody battle, we may need to rest. The ego hates to … Continue reading Soul Candy
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“I Will Not Pretend That My Hands Don’t Work”
When Scott and I were first married, and setting up our home together, I was unpacking boxes of files to put into the office, and came across an envelope full of sentences he'd had his boys write as a consequence for behavior that got them into trouble. I sat on the floor flipping through these … Continue reading “I Will Not Pretend That My Hands Don’t Work”
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This is the time I feel closest to the page
This time is the time I feel closest to the page; here, at this table, with a warm cup of coffee, now, in the wee hours, dark all around me, sun not ready to peak over the ridge for several hours, children still tucked into bed, silent for these few hours. Silence. Golden. Shimmering. Silver-plated. … Continue reading This is the time I feel closest to the page
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Between the Two World Wars
T.S. Eliot is another one of my favorite poets. The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock, perhaps, being one of the most haunting and beautiful poems I have ever read. He has a way of speaking that is lilting, and ominous at the same time. This morning, I read East Coker, one of the poems in … Continue reading Between the Two World Wars
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Standing Myself in a Corner
(Although, if I must be confined... here is where I'd want to be banished!!) Today I am feeling less than authentic. What happened, I wonder? In an attempt to connect and get to know other writers, I joined up with a bunch of groups and got myself bewildered and directionless. Sadly, writing is a bit … Continue reading Standing Myself in a Corner
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The Venus de Milo fits nicely on my Shoulder
Tonight I was caught up in musings about my actual Muse. What does she look like? What are her characteristics? Of course, I am drawn to the idea of an actual Greek Goddess as my muse. But I also believe that my inspiration is a melding of a multitude of strong, glorious women from down through … Continue reading The Venus de Milo fits nicely on my Shoulder
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In the Process of Writing, You will Learn How
"Don't worry about your talent or capability: that will grow as you practice." - Natalie Goldberg, from Writing Down the Bones. In this chapter, she is talking about the fact that we do not read a book on exercise to lose weight, we exercise. We do not read about writing in order to get better … Continue reading In the Process of Writing, You will Learn How
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My Quiet Place, My Still, Oh Where?
Consistency is simply not my forte – not my strength. So much I wish. So much I want. The hours of stillness before everyone is up, before all the needs of everyone start piling up before me. So much I wish. So much I want. But not enough apparently, if longing for and wishing, wanting … Continue reading My Quiet Place, My Still, Oh Where?
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He’s moved on to Writing Books!
The Children's Motivational Story Ben wrote for a target audience of 2- and 3-year olds. I think he enjoys being a Big Brother!
