One of the best things I could have done for my writing was to take a painting class. Though it uses the same skills that I use as a writer, I’m less obsessed with the outcome. I’m more aware of thoughts that encumber my progress. I notice areas of resistance and...
As I reflect on the transition we are making from Spring to Summer, I think of how incredibly affected I am by the seasons. In fact, the manuscript of poems I am revising now is organized through the natural cycles of day and night, the seasons, and aging. Here are...
Though I finished reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed more than a week ago, I’m still mesmerized by the courage and determination it took for her to hike the Pacific Crest Trail all alone. But what has really stuck with me is the process of finding yourself through...
In the past two years, as I have revised and reworked my manuscript of poems, “Confluence,” I have thought seriously about principles. I have thought about ordering principles and about the principled act of walking outside each day. I think of the Midwest, of...
Four weeks ago, when I wrote the Boundaries blog, I asked the question: why do I write? And I found myself thinking about the sixth grade. I was a late bloomer. I still wore a little-girl undershirt, while all my friends sported training bras. Whenever we got a...
