#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

There is no season when such pleasant and sunny spots may be lighted on, and produce so pleasant an effect on the feelings, as now in October. The sunshine is particularly genial.... It seems to be of a kindly and homely nature.

~ Nathaniel Hawthorne (Journal)

No rush, except the draw, the desire, to be outside, early, to see the new day. But, I take my time. Sunday is the day I send out my weekly Aim for Astonishing photo-inspired writing prompt, and yesterday’s draft must be finalized and sent. Done, with satisfaction. (If you’re interested, you can read it here, or subscribe here.) My son, up early, joins me on the red couches, in the line of the blinding sun through the French doors, and we have a catch up on his life before he leaves for a meditation workshop. We talk over his career, his choices, and I am grateful for this sweet sharing time before walking. By the river, I listen to a recording of my recently revised poem about my husband’s heart, and I know it’s ready for me to bring back to the Monday night workshop. I think it’s better. And I think about why, what was helpful? I sensed that the draft I shared was competent; but underwhelming. A good sign that there was something missing. Except Tom’s feedback, his unpacking of one of my images, one that I had used instinctively, not knowing why, opened something into clarity for me. He showed me something in my poem that I had actually not quite realized was there. And there was an argument, too. A disagreement about whether it works for me to use the same adjective twice in the poem. And Tom, once again, argued for a poetic reason to use it twice: because I am using the adjective to mean different things, and both times, there is a necessary build for the poem. My earlier draft, I saw, was insular. I have tried to open it. I will see if I succeed. Then, on my walk, I listen to a fascinating podcast interview - Megna Chakrabati interviewing author Rick McIntyre about his study of wolves at Yosemite, and his book about Wolf 8: The Wolf Runt Who Rose To Alpha-Male Status In Yellowstone, and I lose track of time, the story is so illuminating, so exciting, so moving. We are considering a trip (I’ve never been) to Yosemite with the family. In the afternoon I go to the Brookline Poetry Series to hear poets Jay Featherstone and Joan Houlihan read, and I’m so glad I did, an afternoon of listening and being deeply moved, and then I shared, in the open mic, (with 19 others!) a poem, one of my newer ones, “Goatsbeard Gone to Seed,” and for the second time this weekend feel pleased, reading poems to poets, not to workshop, but to be part of the give and take, reciprocity of poetry community.

Like a religious order, but without the religion, poets are fueled by deep connections to the ineffable, an inner silence.

~ Joan Houlihan, Boston Comment

Then, home to finish making my lentil soup, and eating it, by the fire, with Frank.