More Her Red Book, Too

I’ve continued my Her Red Book, Too Ritual almost every day since I gave the assignment as a weekend workout. I don’t know how long I’ll continue. Perhaps until my book tour. Perhaps until I have enough material for a whole new book! All I know is that the results have been pleasantly surprising considering my whole life right now is working from home on my book marketing/touring strategies. I mean there’s not a lot of drama going on other than in my head, so I have to make use of the mundane. Like writing about the crows daily migration east to west and back again. = On the Morning of the Crow Migration She does not recall when began her fascination with birds Prehistoric miracles   defying the mundane It could have been when she settled...

Monday Potes (on Tuesday, of course!): On the Day of the Bicycle Mammogram

A few weeks ago I gave a weekend workout assignment that I enjoyed so much I haven’t stopped. It was a writing ritual I had created for myself 9 years ago that became the manuscript for my chapbook Her Red Book. Once I got back into the ritual (very basically: writing in 3rd person early in the morning and just before going to bed, and always titling it FIRST with On the Day of, On the Night of, On the Morning of. . . etc) I quickly realized what a gem it was and couldn’t believe it had taken me so many years to try it again. I’ve wracked up several of them that I’m already editing and have decided to post a few, even though they still feel a bit precious. On the Day of the Bicycle Mammogram She rides on an uneven day west a straight shot...

Weekend Workout: Writing About Loss

I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds it challenging to write a satisfying poem about a loved one who has died. What words can fill the space the person held? In honour of dear friend and poet Gabrielle Bouliane, who died of cancer one year ago today, I wanted to write something to/for her this weekend. This workout is something I’ve never tried before, so I’m experimenting with it. I’ll post the results after the weekend. Instead of sitting down to write a poem or letter or story in one go, eeking out inadequate language for a heart-ripping loss, I’m going to keep Gabrielle in my thoughts all weekend and carry several index cards with me wherever I go. Any time a thought or vision or image or anecdote comes to mind, I’ll write it on a card. It doesn’t matter...

Resistance, Ritual, and the (W)Riting life

Several months ago I wrote a POST about how I quit my “soul-sucking” job to live a more creative life. A life that was more in line with my passion and purpose. The truth of the matter is, it’s a challenge to live life as an artist, writer, musician, etc and make a living from it. It’s not impossible; it’s just challenging on so many levels. Your spouse might not appreciate your lack of immediate income, you might not appreciate your lack of immediate income, your friends and family might resent you for not taking life seriously, and your mind will give you those 11,000 reasons why you can’t do it (I’m a talentless hack; I’m too old to change my life; No one will read anything I write; There’s no money in...