That you relate your own process so clearly, stumbles and all. Especially the stumbles. As if you walk through long, bramble-filled grass that hides uneven ground, and we follow you. Because you are a trust-worthy guide. I'm learning a lot from you. Huge gratitude from me dear Kirstie.
Carolyn’s right you lay out your process here with remarkable openness, as if laying it out on the table in front of you. A wave of generosity for the reader to surf. I found plenty about that inner critic felt (all too!) familiar. There was so much air and light in the poem at the end - breathtaking!
I read this in the early hours of my Friday morning. The world was still dark outside my window. My heart & mind making the gentle shift from sleep to waking.
The tenderness throughout pulled me in. The gentleness of paint on paper, running, leaking. Trying thicker paper and thicker paper still. At the last line, I bawled my eyes out.
It was the softness that struck me. Your openness to keep trying, despite the fear, allowed me to cry out the fears in my heart and chest.
Dear Toni, our work speaks to each other. Giving and receiving, the openness and the return. I’m so grateful for your sensitive, and attuned reading of my work, and your replies. The tears, the rain and the joy. Likewise, I look forward to your poems and essays when they arrive. Treasure from the earth and the soul. 🙏🏽
Thank you Eileen, yes keep writing. Even if we don’t like the work we produce, or even if it fails, the writing is the place we work things out. The drafts, all the graft is where the material of our minds and hearts finds channels in rock and begins to trickle through. Let it rain.
That you relate your own process so clearly, stumbles and all. Especially the stumbles. As if you walk through long, bramble-filled grass that hides uneven ground, and we follow you. Because you are a trust-worthy guide. I'm learning a lot from you. Huge gratitude from me dear Kirstie.
Thank you so much Carolyn. Your company on the journey makes it all better, and more fun.
I think fridays are my favourite day now as I Ianticipate your generous weekly offering arriving, thank you so much Kirstie x
Thank you so much Liz, that’s just an amazing compliment.
Mine too Liz, for this same reason 💚
My heart is filling up. 💛 Thank you my friends.
Carolyn’s right you lay out your process here with remarkable openness, as if laying it out on the table in front of you. A wave of generosity for the reader to surf. I found plenty about that inner critic felt (all too!) familiar. There was so much air and light in the poem at the end - breathtaking!
Dear Steve, thank you so much. Yes, love the idea of the pieces in the table, like beach finds with the question - what we have here?
I read this in the early hours of my Friday morning. The world was still dark outside my window. My heart & mind making the gentle shift from sleep to waking.
The tenderness throughout pulled me in. The gentleness of paint on paper, running, leaking. Trying thicker paper and thicker paper still. At the last line, I bawled my eyes out.
It was the softness that struck me. Your openness to keep trying, despite the fear, allowed me to cry out the fears in my heart and chest.
Thank you Kirstie. Truly, thank you
Dear Toni, our work speaks to each other. Giving and receiving, the openness and the return. I’m so grateful for your sensitive, and attuned reading of my work, and your replies. The tears, the rain and the joy. Likewise, I look forward to your poems and essays when they arrive. Treasure from the earth and the soul. 🙏🏽
🥰 thank you for the sharing Kirstie
This is so beautiful said. Thank you for bringing us along with you.
Thank you so much. I love Carolyn’s imagery of us walking through the overgrown path. To me it’s yes - we are alongside, helping each other.
Kirsty, I am loving this ❤️
Thank you dear Pam.
I needed some encouragement today to keep writing. Thank you for sharing 💚
Thank you Eileen. Yes, keep writing 💛
Thank you Isobel. Just love that you read and respond these pieces.
Thank you Eileen, yes keep writing. Even if we don’t like the work we produce, or even if it fails, the writing is the place we work things out. The drafts, all the graft is where the material of our minds and hearts finds channels in rock and begins to trickle through. Let it rain.