When we first bought our house, a three story 1890s rowhome (skinny and tall, flanked by identical sisters on either side), I would come up to the third floor, a sprawling attic space with vaulted ceilings on all sides and a sky-blue painted patchwork floor, and sit on the floor with my face in the sun.
Keep going -- even if the nerve has been lost. Maybe that looks like the "words work" taking a break yet focusing on making collages and books?
(On the book note, how are you learning book making?? I work as the new books processor for my library and it's adjacent to book binding/making and I would LOVE to acquire more skills in this area.)
“I wanted to be sage and seasoned, rested and sure.” Your integrity to continue showing up exactly where you are is what has kept me here these many years.❤️
"These are words" was my favorite part of the beautiful piece. They sure as heck are. And they made me breathe slower and deeper...almost as if I'd read someone sage. Someone safe. Thank you. P.s. I also both love and feel conflicted about collaging.
Maybe you should say, as the kids do, “let me cook.” ;)
Or maybe you are in the slow in-between space of incubation? (I feel like this comment is the grown-up version of someone telling a mom of toddlers to “enjoy it while it lasts” and you just feel like …mmkay thanks) 🙃
Lost nerve reminds me of a lost dog: It remembers the way back, although the journey might take a while. Here’s a poem that’s lit my spark of hope and belief more than once: https://poets.org/poem/flower
Even your blank spaces are beautiful.
Keep going -- even if the nerve has been lost. Maybe that looks like the "words work" taking a break yet focusing on making collages and books?
(On the book note, how are you learning book making?? I work as the new books processor for my library and it's adjacent to book binding/making and I would LOVE to acquire more skills in this area.)
“I wanted to be sage and seasoned, rested and sure.” Your integrity to continue showing up exactly where you are is what has kept me here these many years.❤️
Same.
"These are words" was my favorite part of the beautiful piece. They sure as heck are. And they made me breathe slower and deeper...almost as if I'd read someone sage. Someone safe. Thank you. P.s. I also both love and feel conflicted about collaging.
🥹 honestly, what a gift spaces are that invite us to create and find joy without productivity. and sometimes so maddening too lol.
Girl, you've cranked out three books (and an unpublished novel) in a decade. I give you permission to chill and mentally compost for a bit.
It'll come! It's like you're nesting - smile and hugs.
Maybe you should say, as the kids do, “let me cook.” ;)
Or maybe you are in the slow in-between space of incubation? (I feel like this comment is the grown-up version of someone telling a mom of toddlers to “enjoy it while it lasts” and you just feel like …mmkay thanks) 🙃
Lost nerve reminds me of a lost dog: It remembers the way back, although the journey might take a while. Here’s a poem that’s lit my spark of hope and belief more than once: https://poets.org/poem/flower
Thank you for the poem. So perfect. I printed it to keep rereading it.
Love this space. Maybe you are just in the blank spaces between the words right now. Also necessary.