Writing and Driving and Life E. L. Doctorow once said that “writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” This passage from Anne Lamott’s book Bird by Bird came to mind while driving with my 15 year old last night. We were talking about growing … Continue reading Like Driving a Car at Night
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 and angst. I grew up in the church, but my … Continue reading Roaring Quiet of an Open Space
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 blogs, and look at things on the internet. I’m wanting … Continue reading “But The Kettle’s on the Boil and We’re so Easily Called Away”
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 pages, laughing until I cried. Scott didn’t ever just have … Continue reading “I Will Not Pretend That My Hands Don’t Work”
The answer, of course, is “So we can learn to get back up again.” This is a line from Batman Begins that I heard my boys saying to one another after they’d seen the movie, reminding each other of the importance of learning through failure. In the last few months I have been nursing a wound to my writer’s life image of myself, to my … Continue reading And, Why Do We Fall Down?
For starters, this was supposed to be finished yesterday, when it was still Vincent Van Gogh’s birthday. It is a whole lot of thoughts mulling around about being an artist, and what it means to feed that. The other morning, on my first morning of not getting ready for work in an office, I found myself sitting and staring out the window at the front … Continue reading Sitting and Staring, and Starry Starry Night
This morning my right arm was feeling limp in it’s socket. Sad to say. I was diagnosed with Tennis Elbow earlier this year, although I do not play tennis. I would love to play tennis, if only for the adorable little tennis dresses, but I do not. I am simply a middle-aged woman, new to farming, gardening, tending animals and carrying heavy loads that I’m … Continue reading Tennis Elbow, Engagement & Writer’s Block