Sideways Days
I have not abandoned my relatively brand new blog. It’s just that there are days that turn everything on its head. Days that slip sideways and by evening the world is tilted a little differently than it was that morning.…
Category journal
Emerging
After spending the last two years being (overly) cautious, we finally emerged from beneath our masks today. While we had gone to the store, the mall, the doctor, and done things outside, we had not really done anything indoors that…
So I Read This Article
have subscribed to the Austin Kleon newsletter for years and I never fail to learn something from each offering. This week there was a link to an article about Dagny Carlsson who started blogging at 99 years old and kept…
Ideas Many of Us Hold that I Invite you to Challenge
Your writing/art is too basic, immature, pedestrian You are not a real artist No one cares or will see what you create What is the point of art?Don’t you have better ways to spend your time? You write/create the same…
On The Perils of Advice
Read all the booklists you want. Take all the suggestions, keep up to date on what’s on the bestseller lists – but in the end, leave room for what you enjoy. If a book isn’t speaking to you, no matter…
Routines and Losing Our Way
A weeks old Austin Kleon newsletter I had sitting in my inbox has me thinking about routines. Not the getting up, eating breakfast, getting dressed type routines, but routines for creativity and happiness. Along with all of the daily must-dos,…
Hermiting
I’ll tell you what hermits realize. If you go off into a far, far forest and get very quiet, you’ll come to understand that you’re connected with everything. ~ Alan Watts Winter doesn’t seem to want to loosen its grip…
Wanderers Are Never Lost
Not all who wander are lost. I’m thinking of this oft quoted phrase this morning because it was printed on the back of my cereal box. Along with a serene photo of people doing yoga. The cereal is good for…
Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.You do not have to walk on your kneesfor a hundred miles through the desert repenting.You only have to let the soft animal of your bodylove what it loves.Tell me about despair, yours, and…
Thanksgiving
I suppose you were expecting a poem of Thanksgiving. When every meal of cranberry sauce and homemade rolls fades into another memory of another parade, I’m uninspired. Today someone will ask what I’m grateful for. I’ll answer, with a full…