Category Archives: Writing

Art is a Gamble

Art is a gamble. Maybe you have talent, maybe even genius, but maybe no one sees it. I mean, look at Emily Dickinson. “Ya got sup’m,” Higginson said, “but’cha ain’t ret yet.” Well, words to that effect. Or, you might … Continue reading

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Poverty

I was eighteen. Watched a tv report on President Johnson’s “War on Poverty.” The only image that sticks in my mind is of a rural white woman with small children. Three or four. A social worker asked what would the … Continue reading

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Social Anxiety

I cracked a fortune cookie, pulled out the little strip of paper, popped a piece of cookie in my mouth, and while I munched on it, read my fortune. (They don’t seem to have fortunes anymore, really. Just an adage, … Continue reading

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Writer’s Block

She said, “I’ve heard people say they have writer’s block. I don’t know what that is. I don’t have any trouble writing. I don’t even believe in writer’s block. There’s no such a thing.” That was twenty-nine years ago. I … Continue reading

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Women Writers

I’m reading Eileen Myles. I didn’t know who she was, until I read an article about a “punk poet.” Two words I’m drawn to–“Punk” and “Poet.” Two words I love. Later, I come across her own words: “Can I just … Continue reading

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Magic of the Moon

I got up yesterday morning at 5:15.  I wanted to see the super blue blood moon. I got up later than I had wanted to. Effing insomnia made me lose sleep again, and I was unable to rise at 4:45 … Continue reading

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Reading, Writing, Wondering

I had always said I would never read on a device. I had always said I would never have a cell phone. Well, you know what they say about “never.” As for “always,” it really can’t be projected into the … Continue reading

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