Sometimes, it helps to get away.
I go the water when I can manage it. I’d never been to Cape Cod. So I found a way to swing it, packed almost nothing, and headed off with a dear soulfriend who’s also assessing, seeking, wondering. We wander well together, always have.
It’s a writerly retreat, with sand between toes, and a fire at night.
1) I’m working on putting together a collaboration with various BPD-focused souls, like me
2) crafting a tiny Boston Globe piece (while it’s still in print)
3) working on a chapbook of poetry that I quite possibly should have attempted at a more tender, less embarrassing, age
4) assessing other life options that have nothing to do with writing.
Looking for a sustainable life for me and the girls is top priority. I don’t know how to make the writing sustainable yet. But I keep coming back to it.
Trying to find a way to make the second half of my life more rockin’ than the first.
Consider this a postcard of love. Miss you.
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