How We Write Ourselves Alive

This morning I made my coffee—well, I poured the coffee from the pot that Jon had already brewed, then prepared it the same way I do every morning, the oat creamer, the small ceremony of it, the way the white swirls into the black—and I stood at the kitchen window watching the California light stream in, such a confident light here in California, the kind of light that knows its own security. So unlike February light in Minnesota.

That’s partly what I was thinking, as I swirled the creamer into my coffee. Mostly, though, I was still pondering a conversation earlier this week, a conversation with someone in the middle of a hard project, who asked me a question I keep turning over: Why do we do this? Why do we keep coming back to the page when the page costs so much?

So that’s what I’m writing about this morning.

Two quick announcements first, though:

Open Mic Salon Replay & Cento Poem

Our open-mic salon yesterday was gorgeous! Watch the replay here!

And check out the cento/collaborative poem I created from the readings too. Let me know what you think.

What a lovely hour! Next one is March 10 (and you can always keep an eye on our events calendar here).

Writing in the Dark | The WORKSHOP

We have three last spots available for the April session of Writing in the Dark | The WORKSHOP, which runs six consecutive Tuesdays, April 14 - May 19, 6-8 PM Central. Details about the workshop can be found here and/or you can enroll here.

If you’ve never participated, please read the workshop description first and also make sure the dates work for you for this non-refundable workshop (all sessions are recorded). WITD is a uniquely engaging format and you’ve likely never experienced a workshop quite like it.

Now, back to that question of the page—and why we keep coming back despite the cost.

I didn’t have a quick answer. I rarely do for the questions that matter. But I’ve been sitting with it all week, and what I want to try to say is this: we come back to the page because the page is where we become legible—to ourselves, first, and then, if we’re lucky and we work hard enough and we’re honest enough, to someone else. And becoming legible is not a small thing. For some of ...