Browsing Tag

on writing

Sacred Feminine, Stories, Wild Woman, writing

Seeking Truth

February 3, 2011

“Come with me | and you’ll be | in a world of | pure imagination” – Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley

 

butterfly dressWhen you finally open your eyes and see what you’ve actually known all along, you fall into a place that takes your breath away.  Since declaring myself a Talespinner, enchantment, magic, stories and connection have been lining up and demanding I notice them. I am becoming increasingly impatient to tell you the stories that are being whispered in my ear.

I want to tell you the story of the woman who saw her full beauty for the first time and was transformed into sparkling light.

I want to tell you the story of the dress that danced itself to pieces waiting for its owner to notice that it had gone on without her.

I want to tell you about the woman who took her shoes off while she stood under a tree and grew roots so deep that the earth moved with her when she danced.

I want to tell you about the woman who climbed out of her own mouth.

I want to tell you about the place where our dreams go to wait for us to dream them.

I want to tell you about the darkness that has taken seed and begun masquerading as a lover.

I want to weave all of these stories together and tell them to you so that we can both be wrapped in the truth that only stories can tell. But I can’t tell you all at once; I need to be patient.

My first book told the story of a woman waking up. This one will explain why she woke to find leaves in her hair.

“You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” – Mary Oliver

The picture above is from the portfolio of artist Su Blackwell. I’d never seen Su’s work before, but have very quickly become a huge fan!
emerge, writing

Talespinner

January 30, 2011

“If you are a dreamer, come in.  If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a hoper, a prayer, a magic-bean-buyer. If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire, for we have some flax-golden tales to spin.  Come in! Come in!” – Shel Silverstein

 

moon lanternsIt’s taken until age 36, but I think I have finally remembered who I am.  I say remembered because when it came to me I knew I had known it all along, but had put it away somewhere and forgotten all about it like a once-treasured doll now gathering dust on a shelf.

The process of remembering started last summer with the gentle knowledge of my Style Statement brought on during my participation in Jamie’s Circe’s Circle.  During that time, Jamie also helped me to claim that I was indeed a writer, something I had not fully claimed before.

Then last week a book came in the mail and when I opened it and read just one paragraph I remembered a little bit more.  It was not just about writing, but about stories – ancient stories – but it still didn’t feel complete.  I am not and have never been a storyteller.

And then yesterday two things happened simultaneously: I had to write a bio for a guest post and I joined Jamie’s Year of Dreams circle and had to introduce myself.  Bios scare me, so I decided to sleep on it.  This morning I woke really early with a voice running through my head. “If you are a dreamer, come in…” I have carried this poem with me ever since I read it the first time. I had it pinned to the outside of my bedroom door when I was about 12,  I wrote it on the wall of the craft centre I managed and I’ve scribbled it in nearly every quote or notebook I have.

“…for we have some flax-golden tales to spin…”  and I remembered who I was.

So this morning the first thing I wrote was this:

“Last night I struggled to write a bio for a guest post I am doing on a friends’ blog and this morning I woke up with a new word for the bio: Talespinner.  I’m not even sure it’s a real word, but it felt dangerous and magical and it feels more like the kind of writer I am aspiring to be. I write books that take ancient stories and wisdom and make them resonate with a contemporary audience.  I want people reading my words to feel like they are sitting beside a campfire at the knees of their ancestors hearing stories that help them make sense of their modern lives.”

So there it is.  Finally.

Yes.

xo

writing

a passionate affair with words

September 18, 2010

Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work.” – Gustave Flaubert

 

Ooh, can you feel that one?

Am I the only one afflicted by this or does it happen to you too?

Do you ever get an electric shock from words?

Does your skin ever tingle when you find just the right combination of letters and spaces that speaks directly to somewhere deep in your body?

Do you ever feel like your heart or your soul or your toes or your neck actually understand what the writer said before your brain does?

Do your eyes sparkle or tear up when they read something that touches you exactly where you are in the moment?

Have you ever read something three times and felt nothing only to find on the fourth visit it grabs you by the heart and won’t let go?

Does your throat read words more intensely and reactively than your brain?

Do you gulp words down in bites far too big to chew because you cannot get them in quickly enough?

Do you delight in finding kindred spirits on the page or screen?

Are words as necessary to you as your breath?

…or is it just me?