Author: seemareza

A Father’s War

Here in this deep chill, a dear friend came over with dinner from my favorite Italian place.  Because I wanted to be served but did not want to go out.  Because I wanted him to write.  Some people play scrabble or watch movies with their friends, some people make their friends write after dinner.  Well,…
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Narcissism, kind of

  “All art is autobiographical; a pearl is the oyster’s autobiography.” –Federico Fellini I love this on multiple levels.  Let’s accept that through art-making we are trying to figure ourselves out.  Our stories, our context, our feelings. When we put our work into the world, we are asserting our individual importance. Let’s confess that we…
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Exploding Truth

There was a lot of talk of diarrhea in the past week. That is not at all what I’m referencing when I say exploding truth. Wait, what’s that? That’s not where your head went? Oh, right. Mine either… This morning I came across this, from Adrienne Rich’s essay Vesuvius at Home: It is always what…
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Uncomfortable Questions

  Happy New Year, beauties. Sitting with questions is mad uncomfortable.  I’ve been thinking a lot about questions, and the importance of narrowing them down, honing in on what they are.  Because the answers are almost always contained within the question.  And if you’re asking the wrong–or a dishonest or too large–question, you’re likely to…
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Myths Originate Everywhere

In my own writing and reading I’ve recently been interested in the mythologizing of personal stories: enlarging metaphors and themes to blend truth and existing folklore with newly created heroes and villains. It seems that sometimes, the only way to get at a story so big you can’t see the whole thing is to write…
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Permission

I heard this beautiful poem by David Allen Sullivan on the Writer’s Almanac the other week.  It is everything to grant oneself permission aloud, even if temporarily–to not be your absolute model best self at every turn.  Shake off the burden of the unnecessary, of what you can release that will cause no one else…
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Many Cups to Drink From

  This is kind of weird.  I don’t remember starting this post or choosing this picture or what the title meant–“Many Cups to Drink From” but I must have done it in the past week.  It was here in my drafts and I feel compelled to continue it in some way.  Perhaps we’ll look at…
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Ordinary Continued

Forgive me, I am tired. But I want to put this prompt–or rather this continuation of our last prompt–out into the world. First of all, go read this I want you to take a photograph or a mental image of an ordinary, happy day in your life that maybe wasn’t particularly momentous–the kind of photograph…
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When the Water Stills

When you have done what you can—no question of whether it is enough, there will come a time when it does not matter. When the water stills and you are invisible you will wander and marvel again: at the patterns of the carpet, oil in puddles, the scar on your mother’s hand the fact of…
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