I wish I could pick up where I left off last March, but the truth is, I was swept away in a flood of continuing education courses for my line of work and completing the necessary paperwork for a license and a national board recertification for most of the rest of the year. It was a draining process; I'm not even sure I wrote anything after last year's Writer's Digest Poem A Day Challenge in April. I was sleepwalking and didn't know it.
But in late December 2oo9, I got a wake up call, and the awakening process from then until now has been an incredible journey. Bits and pieces of it will appear later, but for now, know that I've chosen to take Ray Bradbury's advice to heart: "Stay drunk on writing so reality won't destroy you." (I'd add "reading" to the writing bit; several books have kept my spirit soaring, too. Not to mention loving and supportive family.)
This last March, I wrote 2 pieces that changed my outlook on my creative process. A friend was asking for possible hiding places for a trunk; I wrote one and posted it, then realized I had to snatch those 2 beginning paragraphs back and run with them. The result was that I ended up with a short story that "turned me upside down and shook all the nonsense out" (paraphrazsing the Persian poet, Hafiz), and resulted in a week of ignoring my life and writing like crazy. The second piece was one that opened my heart to changing and healing my past, inspired by the events of the story of the trunk.
It was worth the sleepless nights and dust rhinos that invaded the house.
I wish I could share those pieces right now, but the truth is, I think I wrote them for myself and a few close family members. Only a few have seen the trunk story; no one has seen the sequel. Perhaps someday they'll appear somewhere. For now you will have to trust me that they served to open the floodgates to writing as truthfully as I am able.
It shows. In my poetry, in the observations that I've been recording, in my willingness to be more open about how the past has shaped me. There are times I feel selfish, that I am concentrating on all these words trapped in my head, helping them plan their escape, and by doing so, ignoring other parts of my life I truly love. But once the flood of refugees has lessened, there will be plenty of time for the rest, too.
But in late December 2oo9, I got a wake up call, and the awakening process from then until now has been an incredible journey. Bits and pieces of it will appear later, but for now, know that I've chosen to take Ray Bradbury's advice to heart: "Stay drunk on writing so reality won't destroy you." (I'd add "reading" to the writing bit; several books have kept my spirit soaring, too. Not to mention loving and supportive family.)
This last March, I wrote 2 pieces that changed my outlook on my creative process. A friend was asking for possible hiding places for a trunk; I wrote one and posted it, then realized I had to snatch those 2 beginning paragraphs back and run with them. The result was that I ended up with a short story that "turned me upside down and shook all the nonsense out" (paraphrazsing the Persian poet, Hafiz), and resulted in a week of ignoring my life and writing like crazy. The second piece was one that opened my heart to changing and healing my past, inspired by the events of the story of the trunk.
It was worth the sleepless nights and dust rhinos that invaded the house.
I wish I could share those pieces right now, but the truth is, I think I wrote them for myself and a few close family members. Only a few have seen the trunk story; no one has seen the sequel. Perhaps someday they'll appear somewhere. For now you will have to trust me that they served to open the floodgates to writing as truthfully as I am able.
It shows. In my poetry, in the observations that I've been recording, in my willingness to be more open about how the past has shaped me. There are times I feel selfish, that I am concentrating on all these words trapped in my head, helping them plan their escape, and by doing so, ignoring other parts of my life I truly love. But once the flood of refugees has lessened, there will be plenty of time for the rest, too.
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