I know there are certain delightful writers who are tracking how often I post and then calling me out publicly when I say I post a prompt weekly (I’m glad to be held accountable). I have been thinking a lot about stumbling and getting up and about the sort of latent anxiety and excitement of my…
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I slipped a little last week in my great never ending effort to hold my shit together. It was a hard week, with lots of feelings–lots of emotional weather outside of myself, beyond my control. It was also the week preceding a particular monthly celebration that originates in my uterus (emotional weather inside myself, also beyond…
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There is a magic we must all learn. It has two parts. Because it is a magic we have all once had, we must first relearn it and then learn how to follow through. The magic is this: listening to what we ourselves need. It is personal intuition: our bodies tell us that we are hungry,…
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I write poems in several different ways: In a regular paper journal that travels around with me In another really thick journal that stays on my bedside table On scraps of paper/in the margins of things In various oddly titled Google docs on my phone or iPad In a Word document appropriately titled (least…
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This weekend I visited an awesome papermaking/letterpress studio some dear friends have set up near Ithaca. I traveled there to collaborate on an art book. I wrote the poem. I think this is the first time I’ve collaborated with this many people on an idea of my own. We looked very seriously at every choice–turning…
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I am going to write this essay. I have been struggling with it. All week long. Maybe longer. The thread of logic is unspooling slowly, I am trying to keep pace, to hold it and go where it leads me. I’ve almost worked it out. I’m really almost there. But I keep watching the video…
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Sorry for the half post earlier–I uploaded the picture and then meant to hit save but ended up publishing, which then sent subscribers an email with a broken link. Thanks for looking out. This picture, by the way, is of a young fellow who keeps taking the book I’m reading to read for himself. He…
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The other morning my younger son asked me two questions that were important. 1. What is the statistical likelihood that a person will marry the person they are dating in highschool versus the odds that one will move away versus the likelihood that they will break up? I’m packing his sandwich, I have one earring…
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My favorite non-fiction writer, you may or may not know, is Annie Dillard. Her clean, spare, breathtaking descriptions, her trust in the reader to keep up. Her honesty, her ability to remember her child self and imagine the wild thinking of animals. Long ago, when I first began writing seriously, I was so completely relieved to read The Writing…
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