on “groping for meaning” with natalie goldberg during a global pandemic
For a poet, I think I’m late to the nesting and writing stages of coronavirus grief. But thanks to a cat, perimenopause and Natalie Goldberg, I’m here now.
Category: Writing about writing
i’ll give you something to cry about, the broken toe edition
Maybe you have a place like this: a spot where you see yourself with such clarity it both inspires and frightens you. For me, that’s almost always when facing, touching and diving into the Atlantic. This year, I rediscover grace for my body and a thirst for my writing life.
a reader who was myself
As Olds said, I need to confide in a reader who is myself. When I fail to do this, I have nothing to share with the world. And I’m not talking only about poems.
violators will be towed: a manuscript update
I can relate to the standstill/stare-down Natasha describes in the opening of her post. When I go visit my manuscript, it doesn’t even welcome me. There’s no room for me in it anywhere. Not even space for me to park my car out front.
nothing fancy: on soup, sriracha and self-care
The old version of myself would’ve called the experiment a big failure. But now, I’m happy to thank that prior self for her service and back away from her slowly… LOL. What I’ve come to is a place solidly situated in self-care.
notes to my future self who feels she can’t write
I’ve been trying to pay attention to my process this month. Clearly, at least so far, I am able to manage a daily writing practice. Why is it that I spend months and months telling myself otherwise?
poem-a-day challenge: A running commentary
Excerpts/teasers from my December poem-a-day!