Posts tagged ‘writing’

November 13, 2011

The Morning Pages

Tomorrow I’m starting the Morning Pages again – pretty powerful stuff.  I’m about the farthest you could imagine from being a morning person, so it’s going to be difficult to stick to. The last time I did this, it was more like Afternoon Pages. Still effective, but more muddled with the day’s events.

For those of you who don’t know what Morning Pages are – it is a practice suggested by Julia Cameron, featured in her book The Artists Way. The idea is to write three pages, or around 750 words, of stream of consciousness long hand. The last time I tired, it opened up a big can of emotional worms that I had no idea was buried. It was more alarming than creatively developmental. Let’s hope I get past that this time and move on to some serious flow.

more here: http://juliacameronlive.com/2011/11/02/how-do-i-morning-pages/

August 15, 2011

E.B. White – Jill Krementz Photo

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I would love to have this framed for my office – when my office is no longer packed with furniture because of renovations in the rest of the house.

August 13, 2011

notes from the bathroom floor

I’m lying in my bathroom floor right now sort of thankful for this new “spa rug” that Henry brought home. It is cushy enough under your feet, but excellent for keeping bellies off hard tile floors. “Why the bathroom?” you may ask. You’re right…I could just as easily go down to the kitchen, pour myself a glass of wine, and think through my fingers until my heart is content. Somehow I feel guilty when I don’t go to sleep when he does. Right now, he probably thinks I just got up to go pee, and fell back to sleep before having a chance to realize it was a very long pee.

Henry is bound to be used to me getting up and down so many times in a night anyway…what is it with women’s bladders?

Well that’s not where I was going with this. I actually don’t have anywhere to go with this. It has just been a rough day for Henry emotionally and tomorrow will be worse. It is the anniversary of the death of his closest, life-long friend. I worry that I’m not as good at being supportive as I should be – I mean, I am blogging in the bathroom floor at 10:30 on a Friday night instead of curling up next to him. Who goes to sleep at 10:30 on a Friday night? Someone very emotionally drained.

I’ll need more wine for that.

Both of my cats are on to me now and doing that thing that cats do. You know, trying to rip down the door until I open it, then staring at me waiting for the red carpet to roll out. As soon as I give up and close the door, the game is on again.

I think I’ll go down for a snack. Tomorrow, we’ll go on a road trip.

August 11, 2011

My new favorite place…

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I’ve found my new favorite place. The library. Do we really need our own copy of every book we want to read? How could I have forgotten such simplicity? Blinded by a fascination with bookstores, I had forgotten this concept. I remembered today while searching for quiet place to sit, WIFI enabled, to read or write over my lunch breaks. Starbucks is close enough, but it’s bound to be packed. Besides, they are beginning to frown on lingering – which is something I understand from a business perspective, but their new rules pretty much destroy the ambiance of a coffee shop.

Hemingway likely wouldn’t have written as much as he did, especially in Paris, if he wasn’t allowed to linger in coffee shops.

Lingering Laptop Users Wear Out Starbucks Welcome

I guess we will just have to go back to writing with a pen and paper, which brings up another topic. Why on earth are they removing cursive writing from schools? I won’t even start on that rant. It might not end. I only have 26 minutes left in this particular box of the day.

So I hoofed the three city blocks to the public library in my patent pumps, iPad in tow, and had a bright teal library card in my hand a mere ten minutes later. The poetry section beckons, but we’ll save that for another day. I already have an impressive stack of books-to-read-before-I-die towering so high in my office that my fiancé considers wearing a safety helmet in there…especially when the cats are around. Books are food for the writer’s soul – how cliche of me.

August 10, 2011

Writing and the Rain

Rain is thoughtful. Snow is peaceful – but rain is pensive and reflective. Snow wants a latte, and rain wants chicken soup.

It was understandably difficult to go to work today. Rain, after a ridiculously scorching summer, is distracting. It’s draws me inward and upward…reflecting and soaring. I’d rather spend the day barefoot and walking down the middle of deserted city streets; or sitting at the cafe across from the train station at 8am watching the commuter troops, armed with umbrellas and briefcases, pour off the arriving trains. People look proper while carrying umbrellas, and it’s more difficult to rush about on wet sidewalks. It will be okay if they are a little late, after all – it’s raining.

Cities look very different too – It’s nearly impossible to take a bad photograph – even the blurry ones with streaking lights are interesting.

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It would have been such a dream to stay home and write. Darn those responsibilities. Some day – it will be one and the same.

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