I am so grateful tonight for this community I am a part of. Of writers and artists, of survivors and healers and fighters and grateful for the big brave that happens when we step forward into what calls to us. Art, writing, performance, speaking, singing, laughing, healing- all of it. All of us.
I love the opportunities I get to come together with other writers and write- largely in Writing Ourselves Whole Workshops with Jen Cross. I love that feeling of sitting in a circle,with our pens and notebooks, or laptops ready, how we wait poised for the prompt and then we begin. We write together, the room hushes down into scribbling and keyboard tapping, sighs and occasional laughs when something strikes us as it writes itself out onto the page. I so adore that feeling. The energy in the room grows and grows and then there is reading, witnessing, deep listening and such respectful and joyful responses to the writing we hear read to us. If you haven't had the experience I highly recommend checking out the different flavors of workshops Jen offers. It's just one of the best things I've ever done, ever.
This is amazing work, joyous fun and I always leave with words humming in my head. The words I've written, the words I've heard shared out around the room and I am always ready to write more. The next day after a workshop is often filled with writing. Some of the best writing comes from something begun in a workshop write, or in the immediate days after.
The big brave is showing up to write, alone or in a circle. At a workshop or with a friend. You can write with others long distance, in letters, over Skype or instant message, writing together, sharing what you've written and offering feedback. Or you can just write in silence, doing the work in company but not sharing. It's all good. It's all important. It all works.
Sometimes it's big work, sometimes it's hard wrung, sweat stained words that leave a physical groove in the page from gripping the pen so hard and that's good too. I'm never sorry for risking- even when it feels raw or hard or naked if I'm working with difficult material. Sometimes it takes awhile to recover from that kind of wide open, no holds barred writing- for me if it's most challenging if it's non-fiction or fiction that is part of my life- storied into something else but still true enough to make my teeth hurt. That kind of writing requires the big brave. The leap of faith and the ability to stand up to the aftermath of over exposure- the feeling of being skinned and peeled back and wide open with no winter coat, on an icy day. And it's worth it, always.
The harder the writing is, the juicier it is. The scarier it is- the more meat to chew on; the richer the words. I'm grateful to have these opportunities to dive into the scary writing, to have company in the process. Grateful to all of you who have supported my fundraising for the AWA training in July. Because I got accepted and that is both tremendously exciting and terrifying. This will take some big brave too. I've asked for your help to get there and you are donating, you are supporting me and encouraging me. And the gift of that knocks me down and cracks my chest open. It's big and kind and generous and it's something to stand up to. To accept and say thank you and know I will take the next steps to helping build more safe, challenging spaces where we can write and make art in community. Feeling scared and grateful and wide open and ready. Feeling big, feeling brave.
Thank you.
I love the opportunities I get to come together with other writers and write- largely in Writing Ourselves Whole Workshops with Jen Cross. I love that feeling of sitting in a circle,with our pens and notebooks, or laptops ready, how we wait poised for the prompt and then we begin. We write together, the room hushes down into scribbling and keyboard tapping, sighs and occasional laughs when something strikes us as it writes itself out onto the page. I so adore that feeling. The energy in the room grows and grows and then there is reading, witnessing, deep listening and such respectful and joyful responses to the writing we hear read to us. If you haven't had the experience I highly recommend checking out the different flavors of workshops Jen offers. It's just one of the best things I've ever done, ever.
This is amazing work, joyous fun and I always leave with words humming in my head. The words I've written, the words I've heard shared out around the room and I am always ready to write more. The next day after a workshop is often filled with writing. Some of the best writing comes from something begun in a workshop write, or in the immediate days after.
The big brave is showing up to write, alone or in a circle. At a workshop or with a friend. You can write with others long distance, in letters, over Skype or instant message, writing together, sharing what you've written and offering feedback. Or you can just write in silence, doing the work in company but not sharing. It's all good. It's all important. It all works.
Sometimes it's big work, sometimes it's hard wrung, sweat stained words that leave a physical groove in the page from gripping the pen so hard and that's good too. I'm never sorry for risking- even when it feels raw or hard or naked if I'm working with difficult material. Sometimes it takes awhile to recover from that kind of wide open, no holds barred writing- for me if it's most challenging if it's non-fiction or fiction that is part of my life- storied into something else but still true enough to make my teeth hurt. That kind of writing requires the big brave. The leap of faith and the ability to stand up to the aftermath of over exposure- the feeling of being skinned and peeled back and wide open with no winter coat, on an icy day. And it's worth it, always.
The harder the writing is, the juicier it is. The scarier it is- the more meat to chew on; the richer the words. I'm grateful to have these opportunities to dive into the scary writing, to have company in the process. Grateful to all of you who have supported my fundraising for the AWA training in July. Because I got accepted and that is both tremendously exciting and terrifying. This will take some big brave too. I've asked for your help to get there and you are donating, you are supporting me and encouraging me. And the gift of that knocks me down and cracks my chest open. It's big and kind and generous and it's something to stand up to. To accept and say thank you and know I will take the next steps to helping build more safe, challenging spaces where we can write and make art in community. Feeling scared and grateful and wide open and ready. Feeling big, feeling brave.
Thank you.
