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Stories

I believe the west grows barely and we grow corn in Ontario. So, I don’t know what we predominantly feed here. She was horrified, only belatedly seeing my “No Soliciting” sign, clearly hung beside the front door. Problem is, no one googles solicitation to find out what it means. They just don’t know. I can’t think of a replacement. Get Away From My Door? Not very clear and I might never get a visitor again.IMG_6809

So, I can come out on the deck. My back overlooks a public green space with pond, trail and park. I was out last night late and there was fog coming off of the pool. I’m almost embarrassed to write that, but it really was cool. I almost went for a swim in it, but it was getting pretty late.

My thoughts unravel like tapestries, but I haven’t learned how to record them in the amount of detail I perceive them in. Pictures and words. I guess I could throw in a little video, but it is still not much more than pictures and word and the words themselves are so inadequate.

Then, we take this partial description of our lives and base all of our interpretations of events in that context. This is a good thing or a bad thing. Hard to say.

A lovely coincidence. Minor, I admit upfront, but Kudos to my ability to try to NOT overthink things. I do pages in the morning. It kinda gets rid of most of the junk, or at least the type of things I’m not sharing in my blog. It is a practice I highly recommend for any writers. It is recommended (and described) by Julia Cameron in Artist’s Way. When I first started doing it, a book popped out. I can’t overemphasize how simply I could just sit down and write my stories, the way I had come to tell my history.

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