Full moon dreaming
This is my dream board for the Full Buck Moon.
This is my dream board for the Full Buck Moon.
I had a new student in my class last night. After the introductions, I said to her, “This is a loosely structured class,” and the other students laughed in acknowledgement that yes, it sure is.
Loosely structured doesn’t mean I don’t think about my class or plan for it, it just means I try to go with the flow, see what comes up, and if the conversation turns to subjects other than what I had in mind, that’s fine with me, and if there’s no conversation at all, that’s fine with me, too.
It is summer, after all, and the class meets at 5:30 p.m., and we sit on cushions in the park (our conversation—and the writing—often turns to the other people in the park and our imagined lives for them).
Tracy asked me on Friday morning if I thought it was wise to enroll in an art class during the same month that I'm completing a major writing project. The truth is, I'd asked myself the same thing. It may not be wise, but it feels right, as if the two will feed one another.
After the first Mecca performance of Thriller, the MJ songs kept rolling and everybody sang and danced for an hour and then, Thriller again. I don't remember the last time I was in a crowd exactly like this one in Lexington.
In the bathroom at Third Street, just before meeting with my group.
Not long ago, I wrote here about what advice I would give to other writers. This morning, I thought of something else I’d like to add to that list: Don’t read book reviews.
Yesterday I was roaming around reading reviews and I stumbled upon some words about a book that I know, by an author I know. She’s seasoned and talented, there’s no doubt about it. I happen to like her and her work quite a bit. This review, side by side with positive ones, was brief, shallow and cutting. I stopped breathing for a second. The author would probably think nothing of it, but I felt it like blunt force impact. First, I felt empathy for her – the hours she’d spent crafting her words, her story; the love she felt for her characters, her own blood running through their veins. Second, I felt my own gremlins raise their little well-meaning but destructive heads. If someone doesn’t like that book, they said, yours has no chance. Stop writing now! Please! Save yourself the embarrassment.
I'm trying to dial back the baked goods, but just in case you're not trying to dial it back, you might want to get yourself some of this.
I've tried all three flavors. I made pie and brownies with the chocolate, muffins with the strawberry and blondies with the vanilla. I've also eaten the chocolate and the vanilla like a pudding (delicious) and I know the strawberry would be great in a smoothie, though I haven't tried it yet.
The three cards I drew from the Psychic Tarot at the beginning of the month were Harmony, Shadow and Material and Spiritual Prosperity. Harmony, one of my favorite cards in this deck, signifies the possibility of deep spiritual initiation, partnership or union. The Shadow card speaks to emotions, sensitivity, and serves as a reminder that nothing in life is at a standstill. It calls us to look at our darkest fears and walk through them. The last is a card that represents a peaceful, tranquil time when problems seem to disappear.
This things are currently resonating with me:
Superstition & Sin at Shift Your Spirits
Magnificent Brain at Finding My Way Home
Volume Down at Dating God
I had an interesting conversation with my neighbor today. It turns out she also lived in New York for a while. We were talking about what it was like being there and what it was like to come back here from there. Then, I saw this Magpie Girl 8 things post about the signs of re-entry.
Farrah Fawcett 1947-2009
Today Jamie asks, what do you wish to savor?
Last night when I got home from work, Tracy and Woody and Peepers were sitting on the front porch.
Last night I decided that maybe I didn't need to try so hard to be impressive or inspiring or keep the conversation going. I took my writing class out into the park and we sat there under the shade of a giant old tree and wrote for an hour and a half. No one spoke. We watched and listened to the life going on around us. Some people wrote to the prompts I'd supplied, some wrote about what we were observing.
My birthday being in February, I was one of the first of my classmates and same-age friends to cross over from the thirties into the forties, but the season of birthdays has really ramped up now with people turning 40 all over the place, and it’s a lot of fun. I love reading and hearing about each person’s take on this and I have to say, I’m impressed with how overwhelmingly positive my friends are. There seems to be a general consensus that this coming decade is going to be the best one yet. It’s like we’re all gathering this energy and putting these intentions out in to the world and simultaneously shedding everything that we no longer need while embracing what we truly want. (And in case you’re wondering, everybody looks fantastic!)
Continue reading "Babies of 1969 unite (& put your party shoes on)" »
It seems that journal wrecking is a key that unlocks a particular room in my creative heart. When I signed up for this experience, I was thinking that it would be fun. That was my main goal – to have fun. I also thought that wrecking the journal would force me to confront some of my old familiar creativity killers – those little mind hitches that hold me back because they seek the perfection that I can’t deliver.
During the first week, I found myself looking at certain prompts in the journal and thinking – nope, not going to do that. Can’t do it. That would be ugly, or that would be mean. I just let myself have those thoughts and proceeded along my way.
I love my writers group. I love the individuals of which it is comprised, and I love the group itself and what a nurturing and razor sharp friend it is. I love that every time a new member joins Kapow, she is unique and wonderful and brings exactly what we need. I love walking to Kapow during a thunderstorm and the way the sidewalk smells in the rain and the lamps and tiny lights glow inside of Third Street Stuff against the grey outside.
Have you ever eaten a cookie that is so good it almost makes you weep? (If you’re keeping score, raw sugar is back in my diet even though I declared myself sugar free some days ago. Vegan=Yes! Sugar Free=No.) This is the best cookie I’ve ever eaten ever in my life. I sort of wish I hadn’t read the fat and calorie information after eating but even so, Alternative Baking Company rocks as does Third Street Stuff where I bought this cookie while communing with Kapow.
Jamie’s Wishcasting prompt today is With what or whom do you wish to play? At first, when I read it, I felt my old familiar resistance to the word play. I think I’ve mentioned here before that this concept is a bit sticky for me because my initial reaction, whenever I am guided to play, is to associate that word with things I don’t like: running, teasing, competition-- that sort of thing. I always have to remind myself that my play doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s play. It’s the lightheartedness, the losing (or finding) of oneself in joy that’s important.

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