I’m doing mad work on a mini poetry collection for an anthology project. It’s been so wonderful to spend time on my art (and craft) within this strange work-stress-grief dance. The funny thing is I’ve been having so much fun this afternoon and have been so happy, I said to myself,
“Oh, I need to call Mom.”
Meaning, of course, that I love to share these kinds of things with her. So I just directed my eyes upward and told her what I wanted to tell her, then closed my eyes and listened. I broke into the most lovely smile, and felt I’d been answered.
I’m hip deep in poetry tonight, trying to figure out the story arc and the arrangement of pieces - which goes first, last, is the anchor piece in the center? Thinking about how to make everything fit where it belongs.
Creating Space: Three Months of Showing Up for What's Showing Up is a daily writing practice. Turns out that a lot of this writing explores the landscape of grief. My mother died shortly before I began this writing, and this is what I'm thinking about most of the time these days.
Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.
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