#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

“. . .we all begin the process before we are ready, before we are strong enough, before we know enough; we begin a dialogue with thoughts and feelings that both tickle and thunder within us. We respond before we know how to speak the language, before we know all the answers, and before we know exactly to whom we are speaking.”
― Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype

I enjoy waking into the morning knowing I have completed my prep for my Wednesday morning writers; so i will walk unhurriedly. The dogs are patient while I stop at the river to tend to the roses under the arch. I water and prune them and appreciate them. It’s cool. I have carried in the heavy pots of hibiscus and geranium from the deck and set them into my sunniest spots to winter with me, and hopefully bloom indoors. Today feels like fall. We write persona poems and prose from fairy tales this morning, and the prompt prompts wonderful writing and discussion. On the way to the writing studio, I stop to admire the ripe apples dangling from my hosts fine trees at the front of the house. While everyone is writing from the fairy tale prompt, I take some notes for a poem from my apple photo, which reminds me, now that I consider it, of a fairy tale, of course. (Dear Reader, if you would like me to send you this prompt so that you can write from it too, e-mail me at Kellydumar@gmail.com and I’ll send it to you.) What a delicious and fun delight! After the workshop, my friend and I, despite the chill in the air, throw on our bathing suits and walk down the stone path to her dock and the pond is rippling in the shade and we just jump ourselves in without stopping and thinking and swim. I crawl toward the island, and I realize it’s warm – warm enough to enjoy, under the blue sky. We swim quickly and energetically around the island and then into our towels, and it’s then that I’m shivering, but happy, so satisfied. What a lovely way to transition from our magical workshop. This Wednesday is framed by leading my morning workshop and also, the third Wednesday of the month, also my evening online critique group. So, I go home and prepare for this first meeting of this workshop where the writers bring prose and poetry, memoir and creative nonfiction to share for critique - it’s different from the morning which is writing generative. The workshop runs flawlessly, the writing is varied and skillful, moving and interesting. Now I drop into bed, so tired and satisfied, enriched by the sharing, the stories, the magic of this writing life.