I don’t know what I am doing. You’ll say that’s not true, or I’m “taking a break,” but yesterday I practiced my print handwriting. I practiced it all day. I made tea. Got out a notebook and practiced my letters. Height, spacing, different pens, you name the variation, and I was working it. This may…
There’s no sense in lying. I fell in strong like with this picture, and since I have to write a blog post today, I went with something that makes me smile. No. I do not know the adorable tatted man or his puppy dog. I simply needed inspiration, and there they were on iStock. Today…
There are times when writing is the only thing that makes sense. I’m not talking about the bullshit on Instagram about writing because “I have to.” No one has to do anything except for the taxes and death bit. Writers can be an obnoxious and overdramatic lot. I once typed somewhere that writing is “like…
I turned ten years old on July 3rd. Well, not really. I started my blog ten years ago. I don’t like numbers. Their restrictions go past high school algebra into the mindset of our culture. Numbers can make us feel falsely badass or tragically small. I guess that alone explains why July 3rd came…
If I were a seamstress, I would work in the theater. My hair would be long, wavy, and tucked into a bun with those sticks, or maybe an ornate pin. I would wear tunic tops and gaucho pants, but not linen. It’s too heavy and it wrinkles. I’d smell like roses and tobacco. If I…
The Elements of Style commands, “Omit needless words.” I struggle with this every day. Ron is the master. I’m not sure I have ever reblogged before but I could not pass this one up. It’s perfect in sentiment and craft. Enjoy. Write what you know, they say so he writes the first draft of the…
A penny for your thoughts. My Uncle Jerry used to say that when I was a child, usually accompanied by a pinch on the cheek. He was a character that I didn’t appreciate as much as I would now if he were still in my life. Penny for your thoughts is an odd, older generation…
I need to manage my mind. It’s a bit like Grand Central Station up there these days and since I can’t keep things quiet, I tried gathering. Last week, I herded thoughts into similar groups and then willed them to line up single file. I figured if I could get all of it to hold…
I wonder if I’ll ever run out of things to say. If the time will come when I will wake up, pour a cup of tea, and just like when my fingers strain for the last few tiles in a Scrabble bag, I’ll start running out and eventually I’ll be done. Maybe a person is…
