1. Your love letters are not braggy, but real and totally relatable.
2. “A sentence a day” is a genius writing tip. Because we know we’ll keep going. And if we don’t, goal still achieved.
3. I’ve created writing masterpieces and solved writing project problems every time I pet/house sit at a particular (and favorite) client. No cats, tho, just two mini schnauzers, a spacious house with piano and pool with peaceful desert views.
I just LOVED the “poetic postcard” you have sent us about your writing retreat. I am about to go on one myself. A whole week of writing time - PURE JOY. This piece has reminded me to savour every minute of it, and when it is over, write myself a little letter about all the wonderful things I experienced and words I got on the page. Thanks gorgeous one ❤️
This really resonated with me, Lauren! I spent many years supporting other's artistic endeavors across various art forms, and as a bookseller. Now that I have evolved into the next phase of my life (thank you, Serena Williams!), focusing on my own writing and creativity is such a joy it's hard to describe sometimes. Love this piece, and you, and this incredible writing community we are a part of!
Thank you so much for reading, Patricia, and thank you so much for sharing these feelings. I am so happy to hear you are in a space where you are following your own heart and finding your OWN joy!
Loved this like a poetic postcard that's actually large enough to hold feelings. Beautiful to hear (and I do mean hear - thank you for doing it as audio, so much appreciated) about your wide and deep week. Resonating with "anxiety of happiness" - have been thinking a lot lately about fighting for joy. Perhaps the not wanting to go inside is a savouring of that joy that helps adjust our systems to welcome it more, and more often. And to share it.
"This week felt like I was working on so many things that I wanted to be working on, while not sacrificing the ones that pay my rent. One day they will be one and the same perhaps, and in some ways they already are." YES!
That pervasive, deeply damaging idea that art can only happen through pain; that joy, in itself, is not worthy of our creativity? I'm always trying to scrub it off my brain. I have a thought that for those of us for whom writing was part of how we survived something, the idea that we can write as who we are now—as people who are no longer in the grips of that pain, although of course it still lives on with us—can feel almost like a betrayal: Who I am to write without this pain?
But our writing grows as we do, and if we have the gift of that growth, our writing is better for it. This, I sincerely believe (otherwise we're all fucked). So: I have *loved* the happiness of the past few volumes. Life! It's still wonderful!
I have been thinking about this comment since I read it when it first came in, and I come back to it in times of joy that get clouded by "who the hell do I think I am?"
Here's to being joyful - we worked bloody hard through pain, on purpose, with everything we have, for this joy. We deserve to enjoy every moment and we deserve to say it out loud as much as we can.
1. Your love letters are not braggy, but real and totally relatable.
2. “A sentence a day” is a genius writing tip. Because we know we’ll keep going. And if we don’t, goal still achieved.
3. I’ve created writing masterpieces and solved writing project problems every time I pet/house sit at a particular (and favorite) client. No cats, tho, just two mini schnauzers, a spacious house with piano and pool with peaceful desert views.
Thank you so very much, friend. It means the world to me that you read my work and share your thoughts on it. I appreciate you so much!
I just LOVED the “poetic postcard” you have sent us about your writing retreat. I am about to go on one myself. A whole week of writing time - PURE JOY. This piece has reminded me to savour every minute of it, and when it is over, write myself a little letter about all the wonderful things I experienced and words I got on the page. Thanks gorgeous one ❤️
Gosh this comment makes me so happy. Enjoy every minute. I love how this was timed perfectly for you 🧡🧡
This really resonated with me, Lauren! I spent many years supporting other's artistic endeavors across various art forms, and as a bookseller. Now that I have evolved into the next phase of my life (thank you, Serena Williams!), focusing on my own writing and creativity is such a joy it's hard to describe sometimes. Love this piece, and you, and this incredible writing community we are a part of!
Thank you so much for reading, Patricia, and thank you so much for sharing these feelings. I am so happy to hear you are in a space where you are following your own heart and finding your OWN joy!
x
Loved this like a poetic postcard that's actually large enough to hold feelings. Beautiful to hear (and I do mean hear - thank you for doing it as audio, so much appreciated) about your wide and deep week. Resonating with "anxiety of happiness" - have been thinking a lot lately about fighting for joy. Perhaps the not wanting to go inside is a savouring of that joy that helps adjust our systems to welcome it more, and more often. And to share it.
"Perhaps the not wanting to go inside is a savouring of that joy that helps adjust our systems to welcome it more, and more often. And to share it."
Chills. Thank you for sharing this, I needed to read it.
I hope your week has been as magical as you are, friend 🧡
"This week felt like I was working on so many things that I wanted to be working on, while not sacrificing the ones that pay my rent. One day they will be one and the same perhaps, and in some ways they already are." YES!
That pervasive, deeply damaging idea that art can only happen through pain; that joy, in itself, is not worthy of our creativity? I'm always trying to scrub it off my brain. I have a thought that for those of us for whom writing was part of how we survived something, the idea that we can write as who we are now—as people who are no longer in the grips of that pain, although of course it still lives on with us—can feel almost like a betrayal: Who I am to write without this pain?
But our writing grows as we do, and if we have the gift of that growth, our writing is better for it. This, I sincerely believe (otherwise we're all fucked). So: I have *loved* the happiness of the past few volumes. Life! It's still wonderful!
I have been thinking about this comment since I read it when it first came in, and I come back to it in times of joy that get clouded by "who the hell do I think I am?"
Here's to being joyful - we worked bloody hard through pain, on purpose, with everything we have, for this joy. We deserve to enjoy every moment and we deserve to say it out loud as much as we can.
Thank you, lovely! 🧡