"Momentum, for the sake of Momentum"*
I see the moss being ripped from the stones of my brain, the soil in reluctant acquiescence to the bounty and strength of my own internal, intellectual Spring. Ideas, thoughts, dreams all begin to roll, to gain momentum where once they were still and cozy in their bed.
I underestimated the energy that this small writer's workshop would provide toward my own self-education. I suddenly have a strong desire to methodize my work, to keep hours, to create a studio space and altar for writing, to submit rough drafts, t,o attend book readings, to read and read and read. Even the people I want to read has changed drastically. While I still have a great reverence for the literature of the great past, I have a new hunger to read these names I am encountering in the class. It all started with Cheryl Strayed, but from there I have been devouring the brilliant poetry of Brenda Shaughnessy, the writing wisdom of Natalie Goldberg, the rhetoric of Jessica Valenti, the lyrical non-fiction of Lidia Yuknavich.
It's as if I just learned to read and I am hungry for more and more words. A world has opened itself before my eyes and I am jumping into it. Authors I never cared to know about, books that seemed too easy, too modern.
I am asking myself all kinds of questions, really hard questions...but I am also finally empowered enough to feel as though I can actually answer them for myself. To define myself as writer based on MY principles and preferences and definition of success, and not what I assume it should be. I hear this voice saying,"I can do this!" whereas I used to hear it question, "Wait, can I do this?". I have to tell you, it's impossibly thrilling!
|Forsythia from Mom's|
|Even more Forsythia!|
|Forsythia in sunlight|
|Standing under the canopy of a very old cherry|
|Cherry Blossoms line our streets|
|I love the contrast of old to new growth|
|Driveways lined with Camilla flowers|
|Weeping Cherries are one of my very favorites|
|What a great house|
In other movement, Spring has certainly sprung in Seattle. In an effort to exercise more (and to get Bowie out of the house), the baby and I have been walking all around our lovely neighborhood on what I call 'noticing' walks. I probably look crazy, since I am carrying Bowie on my back and people must think I am actually talking to myself, but I speak to her of all the trees and plants and birds that I happen to know. We touch them and smell them and take photos of them.
In even more movement, I have decided to make Kombucha! The first batch is brewing as we speak, so I am hoping beginner's luck will smile upon me.
And last, but never least, Bowie has also gained momentum in a few areas. She cut her second tooth, has tried (and loved) rice cakes, is on the brink of crawling, and has decided to grow hair in the style of 80s punk rock. I am proud.