A Morning in Sounds
7:45 am – I hear the tink of small plastic parts, of tiny Pony shoe box lids capping tiny Pony shoe boxes. I hear the kids’ sweet voices as they play, turning less sweet as our daughter’s voice...
View ArticleI remember
I remember how pretty the marsh looks in summer, when a storm is coming, and the grass looks neon green against a blackening sky. I remember the Fourth of July in Savannah that year with Brian. We...
View ArticleToo much to see
I sat at the kitchen table with my journal, and when I looked up, I saw hand prints on the glass door, horizontal lines of blinds, square pattern of tiles, vertical lines of the fence. There were...
View ArticleA world of pleasure. In my nostrils.
I was drinking tea a while back – a blend of white tea, orange peel, and exotic spices – and as I stood over the cup, pouring steaming water over the leaves, a delicate fragrance bloomed into my...
View ArticleGathering words
I am nibbling at the edges of The Writer’s Portable Mentor, reading a page here and there with my morning yogurt, absorbing Long’s pretty words. And when I got to page 31, “Make your own lexicon,” the...
View ArticleStitching Sentences
Instead of staring into a cold glow of pixelated light this morning, I kept the computer shuttered away in its desk and sat by the window, where blackness transitioned to grey, and grey blushed warm...
View ArticleI remember Maryland
I remember Sahara Moon, and how she’d shrug and say “My parents were hippies” when she told you her name. She grew up in California, on an avocado orchard, and her comfort food wasn’t pizza or mac and...
View ArticleWord trap
No writer should be without a Very Large dictionary. – Priscilla Long On a bitter cold Tuesday afternoon when hat, scarf, gloves, and wool coat were not enough to keep the icy air out of my bones, I...
View ArticleSnapshots from the writing desk
Day 1 It is the Sunday after Thanksgiving and everyone is home, in the house, while I write. I’m in the basement at our Ikea secretary, writing 15 minutes on the here and now, in the same spot, every...
View ArticleOne room, two perspectives
I walked into her living room and, well, let’s just say Thank God I was behind her; the corners of my mouth turned down before I could stop them, and I’d have been ashamed if she’d seen my reaction....
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