Thursday, April 24, 2008
is stillness overrated? (a short report from home base)
Well. We came back from Festival on Sunday, and ever since I have been reviewing notes, and rethinking my writing, and itching to read more, and, and, and…
I’ve barely had time to get settled in, but tomorrow I dash off to Nashville—my older sister is running the half-marathon, and I’m going to cheer her on. Then, the next week, I’m off to see my younger sister graduate from college. (Let me pause a second. That thought makes me a little dizzy. Are we really old enough that she can graduate??) The week after that, yes, I’m traveling once more…
Which means that these in-between days aren’t as still as they could be. I can almost catch my breath, but not quite… not quite.
Festival was astonishing, in every way. I’m brimming with new ideas about writing and reading and faith and truth… Ideas I’d like to apply to my book, if I could just remember what it was I was writing in the first place. My protagonist feels like a dim memory… like a best friend from first grade. I can barely remember her face, and haven’t a hope of remembering her voice. A bit frightening, actually. I don’t want to lose touch with my story.
And so, the Festival debriefing will have to wait, though I have lots to say. In the meantime, I’m packing my bags for the Music City…
mom and me. can you tell that our brains are bulging? this is after nearly three days of lectures, readings, book browsing, and conversation… quite a conference!—jl
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
on works (and people) in progress
Beware of allowing a tactless word, a rebuttal, a rejection to obliterate the whole sky. —Anais Nin
Perhaps a little repose may restore my regard for a pen. —Jane Austen, in a letter
You know that phrase “can’t see the forest for the trees”?
Well, I can’t even see the trees. I get stuck on leaf stems.
Forest? What forest?
I know I’ve written a few times in this blog about my dreadful nearsightedness. And not what makes me wear contacts, but my tendency to stare at things—ideas, circumstances—from too narrow a distance. Once I squint and my eyes adjust, I see nothing else. And I don’t notice that anything’s wrong… I just run into things.
Well, it’s happened again.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
love & purls
Knitting, he thought, was a comfort to the soul. It was regular. It was repetitious. And in the end, it amounted to something.—Jan Karon, At Home in Mitford
my current project: floor cushions! the brown panel will make the top, and the stripes will go on the sides, to make a wedding present for my younger sister and her fiancÚ
Two and a half years ago, when we pulled into the driveway of our rented vacation cabin, I didn’t pay much attention to the cabin next door—though I noticed it was “cute” and inviting. I can’t remember if I noticed that it was a yarn store, but I’m certain I didn’t know it would change my life.