From Facebook

I drive listening to Tori Amos, "Silent All These Years." Singing it, really belting it out. I listened to this in college, warming up my faulty car in the narrow parking lot behind my apartment, shifting gears from first to reverse and first again, gunning it, hoping it would work for once. Fog burns off the slopes of the hills. The female GPS voice on my phone robots off the directions.

"I hear my voice -- I hear my voice -- I hear my voice and it's been here: silent all these years."

Babies in 2013

 

From the Young Adult novel

I tried to look beyond his grin, his dimple, his teeth that just seemed bigger and whiter than ever before, to get a glimpse of the truth. What I found was – nothing. It was like scratching the surface and finding even more surface. You could dig down to the core of the earth that way, excavating with a spoon until you reached red-hot molten lava. But by then it was too late. You were already burned.

Home with the Yoshinator

 

Indigo Girls, "Galileo"

I'm not making a joke
You know me I take everything so seriously
If we wait for the time 'til all souls get it right
Then at least I know there'll be no nuclear annihilation in my life time
I'm still not right

What I look like when very happy

 

With my baby in 2015

In silence, the space

Residences are very quiet. This is by design. The signs around here say WRITERS AT WORK! And we are. Right now I have a YouTube mix on, playing very quietly, and I can hear the sounds of squirrels rustling through the leaves and cars passing. 

The idea is to get the sound of your own head. It's starting to take effect.

Writing, the lonely pursuit

I forgot that I would get anxious at these residences, that the wealth of time and paucity of structure would make the day yawn away. Especially at MacDowell, where the town of Peterborough lay down a daunting hill and isolation sat atop. 

But that was a decade ago. I've learned the value of time and attention. I'm getting the most I can out of this week.

Writers Colony at Dairy Hollow

 

Tulsa

I'm here on my way to Writers Colony at Dairy Hollow. I'm staying in this crazy AirBnb and right now am at an amazing coffeeshop (Berkeley, take note: you don't have anything like this) right next to the 24-7 dispensary. Dang.

Screw the ball, give me kisses!