I need to unwind. I need a life. I must listen to the sound of silence. I need to relax with a cup of tea. I need to put my feet up for just five minutes with no sense of responsibility. No worry about baby needing attention, to be fed, changed, clothed, kept from dispersing fistfuls of mud all over the living room floor. I need to take a shower, the kind where I get to scrub the soles of my feet not the kindly-get-the-grime-off-quickly type. Please somebody give me that. I need an adult conversation. I need to go visit a bookstore or a library and pick up books on a whim, and Read More →

19There is something I want to write about writing itself. It feels so strange. At times it all just flows, like sand in an hourglass. Your thoughts, feelings, ideas literally pour out from a place inside you through your fingertips and it all just makes sense. The process is at times totally independent of your capability as a writer. Letters form words and words form sentences and it feels like the mind is not even thinking or articulating these sentences. It’s happening on its own. Read More →