Because after the grant goes in, she goes to a magical town in the mountains where church bells ring all day, where twilight catches the painted walls and bricks and turns them soft and mysterious, where locals in feathered costumes dance down the cobblestone streets, where the sunset tastes like mezcal and jicama tacos.
If I can find the words here, and put them out into the world, I know that I have the words to say. If I can say them here, I can say them out loud, to the people in my life.
But anyway, here I am, writing these words.
I have returned from a place that isn’t real, and yet is a place I am the most real version of me. I spent Memorial Day weekend returning to Wilder: a place I first ventured one year ago. Wilder is a women’s writing and running camp, curated and organized and gently held by Lauren Fleshman.… Continue reading Latent Lollygagger: Being Real
It's not advice, it's solidarity.
Two days to go. This is kind of like releasing the “Best Of 2017” list on 12/28/2016, but I can’t imagine I’ll learn anything new in the last two days of this experiment. It’s what’s on my mind, and that’s what I write about. I do have time for this Even with a load of… Continue reading Things I Learned from a Month of Daily Blog Posts