Summer at last. Sigh. Long days. And travel.
Suzanne, my daughter, will be home this week from El Salvador, and we will visit my 91 year old mom in Virginia. 91 years. Phew.
Then we'll fly together back to El Salvador. S. will be done with the Peace Corps in November. I can't wait to have her living in the same country.
Next, there's IMAGINATION in Cleveland . . . The second week of July. Probably my last time teaching there. It's always different, always fun, always inspiring. I hope I am back to feeling like writing by then . . .
I've been spinning my wheels lately. Though I am such a bad judge of my own work, I've realized that often when I think I'm writing well, I really stink. And vice versa . . .
But lately my critic has been on full volume. Change this, fix that . . .
I wish someone would teach me how to turn the volume down.
The Paradise Notebooks: A Poet and a Geologist’s Love Letter to Life Lensed
Through a Mountain
-
"Each world bears all the worlds we might find within it. If you understand
one outcropping of stone, or one wildflower, or one hummingbird — if we see
our...
5 hours ago
No comments:
Post a Comment