Failing and Trying Again

 Hello again. It's been two weeks and I have not written anything. But that doesn't mean I haven't made anything. I have created:

+ Many beautiful meals for my family

+ a few lists of things for which I'm grateful

+ a re-reading of The Silver Chair (very inspiring for those of us with dreams of being a children's novelist)

+ clean floors in my kitchen

+ a frame for Maggie's drawing of our family.

  I spent all day yesterday morose, ashamed, and judgmental. I was not happy with my progress yesterday. I spent hours trolling the internet on my phone, wrapped up in the drama of other "blended" families. I have an app for my pregnancy and it includes a special interest group for people with stepkids, bio kids, halfsies and all the other types of mixed families. There's a lot of anger and despair in that group. I'm going to stay away from now on.

  So, to recap: I judged myself for not creating anything. And I stimulated my boredom by reading other people's drama.

  Today I'm choosing to stay awake after dropping Maggie at school. I'm going to make a cup of coffee, take a shower, buy groceries and go to the library. I'm going to read at least one poem.

  This dress looks glamorous and vulnerable. I'd like to exude both qualities today, as a pick-me-up. Some lipstick and some emotional honesty. 

by French designer Delphine Manivet via Cup of Jo

I'm back.

I tried blogging at tumblr, and then realized I don't want to learn the tumblr format, with the "notes" and the "brevity"  and the thing where they don't let me leave spaces between my paragraphs.




ha.










ha ha!


Making spaces at will is important to a poet.

I want to write more about cardiographies, the maps of my heart. My maps have expanded since I last wrote here. I have walked toward poetry, marriage, motherhood, home, essence, and birkenstocks.

I can make a cappuccino now, and I know what a villanelle is.

I await a little baby boy, due at the turn of the year.

Cecco di Pietro, excerpt from Madonna and Child with Donors, 1386, tempera on wood.

 I took this snapshot on my phone at the Portland Art Museum.

I am equipped with a contract with myself, derived at Wings seminars:

I am holy, aligned, and living in passion.

I know that I am holy, I strive to be aligned, I feel passionate about some aspects of my life. I know struggle is the big story of life--I think I understand now that everyone lives in change and aspiration, turmoil and progress, movement and darkness.

I want to make my map clearer so I can see who I am being every day. So I can see where I am going, and how quickly, and what distracts me, what excites me, what I love.

I want to see the things I choose and what I ignore, here on these pages.


I want to show off some things that I make.

 I want to keep a record of my days, to hold myself accountable and to celebrate.

Let's see how I do, shall we?