I spent the weekend seeking out normal–an elusive concept I had proudly let go of. I watched movies I’ve watched before (that’s right, I watched movies), I roasted a chicken, sat by the pool. Last week was the sort that knocks everything askew–it was as if the tripod my worldview balances on lost a screw…
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My children and I do not have the luxury of living together all the time. Sometimes they live with their father, sometimes they live with me. For Spring break, they spent a week with me and then a week with their father. By the end of our week together, we had gotten into a really…
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Closing up for the night and noticed this life unfolding on the table: playing cards angry dinosaurs paper swords plastic daggers nail polish advil and laughing Buddha. The essence of our household. Nothing is perfect, but everything is wonderful. I posted the above a week ago. Remember that movie “Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead”…
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Sometimes I’m unreasonably pissed off. Does that happen to you? Never mind, I’m not asking. I know it does. Don’t deny it. Some people are better at disguising it, sometimes we are better at holding it together than others. But other times…well, ask my kids about other times. Today’s prompt is about looking at those…
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This past week I had the immense pleasure of attending a workshop at Goddard College facilitated by Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg. The workshop was called “Seven Poets to Change Your Life.” Caryn herself is a poet who has changed my life, so I had high expectations. They were more than met. The first poem Caryn shared was…
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I have a theory that from the age of 9 to 25 we try to change who we are and then the rest of our lives we try to return to who we were when we were 9. Before we really gave a shit what other people thought, before we knew we were weird, before…
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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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“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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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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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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