when i write
i'm absent
i'm somewhere that only exists as a nonexistence
an away place
like i'm with death
it is a good place
it is where i came from
and where i'm going
and it is the place that follows me all my life
and where i can seek sanctuary
at any time
this unknown other place
this is where i am going now
today
there are so many types of writers
one type of writer is someone who has to wait for the thing inside them they feel to push its way out
i am not an intellectual writer
i cannot pre plot
or decide what it will be
i have to find out what it is going to be
i have to wait
for the thing inside me
for the moment of birth
it will say "now i am whole"
"i am ready to be born"
but when it is born the story (or adventure) is still a baby
but it is whole
it will mature
it is ready to be discussed now
i heard a voice inside myself the other day screaming at me
"you've got to get me out of here"
i don't know what it meant
but something was whole
and making noises
your story will announce itself
the theme will flood your mind and the characters will rise up
and scream their heads off
for me
it is very vivid
i've been spending more time in the county
on my cousin's land
i went on a walkabout before a writing session
and took some photos
CW: black and white deer carcass i stumbled upon (it will be the last photo)
coyotes must have gotten him
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