Where I Write

My writing space inspires me: a paper mache sculpture made by my daughter, my son’s baby picture in a Winnie-the-Pooh mug, stationary from Florence edged in Paisley, three dictionaries, multiple Moleskines, a post-card from Charles Baxter, a print of Three Cautious Crows from an artist friend, the We Can Do It mug filled with assorted pens and pencils, the desk tucked into the bay, looking out to three redbuds, bare-limbed now but which promise pink beauty in three months.

Peace...

Becoming

In writing my character Ben
I realize after spending six years with him
he has become more of me
and I of him.


***

I have spent the past 3 days rereading my first novel BRIGHTER THAN BRIGHT, reconsidering how many voices to present, and in this close reading I have learned so much: about myself, about Ben, about this story and what it means.

A novel is never finished. And that's okay. Peace...

Savasana

Lying in the dark
in savasana
my pulse sings,
a river in my ears,
a lullaby.


Namaste...

Music Practice

Sitting at the computer
wondering what to observe
with quiet contemplation
my son finds the beat:
the keyboard sings
a steady drum, my girl
improvs along the upper
register plaintive minor keys
the Epiphone riffs
some place between jazz
and grunge,
the room explodes.


Peace...

Wabi-Sabi

The water frozen in the cracks
of this worn asphalt road
glints in the sun, reminding
me of Japanese potters who stuffed
gold into the cracks of pots
which surrendered to the kiln’s
heat, reminding me
of my own flaws needing tending.



Namaste...

Maple Tree

Leaves cling stubborn to bare limbs
veins trace rivers through tea-stained parchment
translucent against the wan winter sun
beige ghosts of crimson glory
the furled fists rustle, chimes in the winter wind


Namaste...

New Day

The day breaks shiny and new. Hoar frost glistens, yielding to the sun’s light. Trees throw bare branches into crystalline blue as if to net a bird. Inside, all sleep but me, the quiet broken only by the refrigerator’s hum, the meowing of the cat waiting to come in.

***

Today marks the beginning of A River of Stones. A month of close observations, of discovering the essence of being. Each observation written, a single small stone which joins the river.

Namaste...