Dream I had gotten ready to leave my dad’s house. We were moving, but to different places, and I wanted to double-check that I had gotten all my things. Every door, every wall was painted white, there were no pictures on any wall. The house had many doors, and most were locked. I had only one key. My dad had a set, and would not lend me his so I could check all the rooms. I checked the rooms I could—and from those, I had already removed everything of mine. I knew, or reasoned, that inside the ones I couldn’t enter..were only his things, and nothing of mine, and I could leave without further investigation or discussion. He was having conversation with his new friends, new family, in an empty kitchen downstairs, and I left without saying anything to anybody, knowing that there was nothing to go back for, nothing I was leaving behind..that was mine.
after writing 100,000 words so far this year, and a trashload last year..far from feeling depleted, I feel charged, I feel poised, I feel a real freedom from having told some of my stories. And even though in a way writing is painting yourself into a corner, because you don’t want to write the same … Continue reading Far from feeling depleted,