Create with Kim!

Like Stringing Beads 

I learned that you should feel when writing not like Lord Byron on a mountain top, but like a child stringing beads in kindergarten—happy, absorbed and quietly putting one bead on after another.

–Brenda Ueland

For 30 days I have participated in a Free Write Fling, and I am sad that it is coming to a close in a few days. I have been productive, and have deeply examined my needs, energies, and commitment to my writing while balancing work and family. I am quite satisfied. I have also been preparing for a poetry reading on November 1, 2007 at the Marquette Commons. It is a free Public Poetry Potluck. I am the featured poet and there is an open mic that follows.

I picked this quote to start my free write this morning as the experience of showing up and writing everyday—no matter what spills out—no matter if I am tired or sick, depressed, crying, or just too dang busy—has been like stringing beads one after the other. What topic will pop into mind today? How do I feel after the free write?

Symbolic representations of times of my life surround me in my Creative Cave and I am going to go out and buy some big wooden beads and a colorful shoe lace to sting them all to remind myself of the month of October, this wonderful autumn of productivity. Red bead—Green bead—Orange—Blue.

I want to stay absorbed in my writing and I am going to commit to write everyday until the end of the year (2007). I might not post them all to my The Dailies though. It is not that difficult of a commitment anymore. It takes about 30 minutes of my day to prepare settle in write and post.

Today the autumn light shines golden on the rooftops of the neighborhood. I spent a lazy morning watching the sun rise out of Lake Superior. I will substitute at the Ishpeming High School Library today. Tonight I begin to organize poems for the reading.

My focus has been on lakeshore and rivers, Michigan writers and the sense of place. I have been pulled into the landscape with my digital camera and not as many new poems stacked up as photos. But I am going to read some raw journals and talk on process. I am going to read from some other poets, too.

Here in Marquette we have been fighting Kennecott, as they want to open a sulfide mine. Water is blood. And it keeps us alive. As writers, bloggers, photographers, we have a responsibility to chronicle and document. Even if we are uncertain how to proceed, it can be as simple as picking a bead and stringing the first one.

So, here I am with my first bead in hand. I have tied a knot in the end of my shoelace and I am gliding it along. I will tack this shoelace and its first bead to the wall and take a breath.

For more information on this Free Write Fling.

3 words on how I feel about this post: Surprised at how the beads led to a new topic. Pleased at my progress. Committed.