Prest O Change O

This whole thing, my life in Tennessee has revolved around the "yes" I said to my spirit when it shouted "WRITE!"

For three and a half years I've been writing poetry and the imaginary box is spilling over onto the floor. I can't push it aside anymore. The pages stick to the bottom of my shoe and follow me around and now there's poetry scattered all over this 135 acre wood.

I called up someone I trust and asked if she'd be interested in grabbing a butterfly net and wrangling some poems to the ground and into some kind of order. She echoed my 'yes' and together (more her then me) there are now two and a half manuscripts taking shape. Mostly, I stand over them for a while and chew my cuticles. Then I push them around in a different order and stand over them for a while longer and chew my cuticles.

I'm telling you this because this is EXCITING and TIME CONSUMING and a BRAIN DRAIN and DIZZYING and demands every bit of concentration I can muster so blogging has been relegated to the back seat.

So the next time your talking to your deity of choice, I'd appreciate you mentioning me and how totally awesome it would be if my "yes" turned into the realization of a dream.

Much obliged dear readers.