Fall is right around the corner, and everywhere I sense the approaching tang of autumn and cycles curving back around. Thanks to you, dear supporters, I’ve transitioned into a new phase: sending query letters and proposal packages to this agent and that publisher, and my newest touchstones seem to be patience and resilience. Each step brings surprises;… Continue reading Seasons are Changing, and the Hunt for a Publisher is ON!
For many years, I posted a photo of Tiki or Bamboo any time I managed to squeeze at least a half-hour of writing into my day. Dubbed my Cats of Creation, they chivvied me from bed to writing nook for nearly a decade, where they listened to me read chapters aloud and offered their meeps of approval and salty Siamese commentary.
"Open cup or closed cup?" Hilary opens a phone call with these words, and I can hear her grinning. I've confessed to Hilary that she's my favorite processing partner, and it's mostly due to prompts like these that invite me to try out the words of my own story.
Majda has taught me about the sacred and the sacrifice. Driving up to a mountain retreat, the Harvest Moon nestled into the valleys between the peaks like an exclamation point, we wrestled with conceptions around time, space, and our own bodies.
When I hear the word compassion, my first thoughts dance around the act of offering it: offering someone compassion. There's always an object, a recipient of the compassionate act. And how rare it is that I am the object of my own compassion . . .
What prevents me from being creative? Why do I struggle so mightily-- usually with the voices in my own head-- over naming myself creative?
Brandy and I met during a Donna Mejia workshop, and it was her honesty-- her raw, unformed questions about what we were learning-- that entranced me. It was her divine cackle that left me draped over my steering wheel, wiping away laugh-tears. It's probably simplest to say that Brandy brings joy into my life.
When DeAnna's infectious laugh reaches my ears, I am instantly at home. DeAnna and I share so many obsessions for unusual things like skeletons, getting up in the pre-dawn light, having a spreadsheet for everything, and communing with our psoas muscles.
I call Heidi "Tradition's Translator" because she is always investigating the overlaps and intersections between all of her different communities and cultures. Heidi teaches salsa, belly dance, and the canon of ballet, jazz, and tab to adorable kids she calls "her dance nuggets."
"But I'm just not creative!" It shocks me now, every time I hear it uttered. It shocked me when it used to come out of my own mouth.