Browsing the archives for the 365 Altars category
Once upon a time, there was a ten-year-old girl who lived in a house at the end of a long dirt road, and didn’t worry about things like her purpose. She wrote stories, sat at her grandfather’s executive desk on Saturday mornings, held her brush-as-microphone while imagining being interviewed by Phil Donahue, and chose for [...]
I spend a lot of time up in my head. Thinking, thinking, thinking. Sometimes I forget that there’s life outside my head, that my head is attached to my body, that I’m sitting on a planet that supports me. I start my writing workshops by asking everyone to do what I know I need to [...]
I can fight. I can fly. Or maybe there is a middle way. I can be willing to stay in my ground. This is not exactly the same as standing my ground, which tends toward “fight” even if it isn’t quite. It’s more like sitting, waiting, connecting. The ground can be a little messy. More [...]
Sometimes you know it’s going to happen. We should believe people when they try to tell us who they are. I was your girl. Oppressiveness of the waiting and the uncertainty. We should believe people when they try to tell us who they are. If I do not fly I want to fight. Oppressiveness of the waiting [...]
Early this morning, Max and I lay outside on the cool deck in the dark. I remembered what I read before falling asleep: “To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight, and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings.”
You can read about the history of abecedaria here. In my February workshop we’re exploring writing as quilting, and I’m thinking about my love for these smallest bits of meaning. My blog posts this month will start with a letter for each day, the 29 days of February giving me plenty of leeway to make it [...]
