commit to the craft
We had our first snowfall today.
I’ve been waiting. I stayed up a little too late a few days before because of a misleading weather report. I feel like a kid, waiting, gleeful anticipation of something that brings me joy. I’m a little surprised at myself—I feared the cold when I relocated to Portland, OR after years in the gulf south. I love the warm humid Novembers. But it snowed within days of my arrival. And returned the next winter and the next. Despite protests that it “never” snows here, it clearly does. I have embraced it.
When I lived in Oakland I waited for rain in the same way but the lack of precipitation there is unsettling. Even here, I know it does not rain as much as it used to, as much as it needs to. Snog is a special kind of magic, requiring a certain tempurature and precipitation but also appears unexpectedly when it should be too warm or when the sun shines.
Another reason I was up late: I bought a new computer and have been catching up on tedious administrative tasks. My old computer was not preventing me from doing my work, but it was discouraging. The screen cracked a few months ago, creating a low vibrating glitch across 2 inches on the left and three inches across the bottom. The shaky intrusion of color made it very difficult to work until I “solved” the problem with electrical tape over the broken parts of the screen. Some days my fix wasn’t enough as the entire screen sang with excitement and flashing lights.
Then the computer shut itself down one day when I was opening files to edit.
I weighed my options and then purchased a newer computer, with screen intact.
I worked for months with the broken screen—I was in the middle of teaching two different series of classes online. I even began taping notes to myself in over the electrical tape, as if I had a thich margin on my monitor instead of a hidden secret.
My friend Brian, a writer you may remember from the exquisite corpse poem in 2020 Keep Writing, keeps notes taped around every room since his first adult apartment in Atlanta in the late 90’s. He writes in sharpie on white paper, blown up post it notes quoting songs and poems.
His notes around the house are not unique, but I appreciate the scale and his commitment. I love collecting bits of inspiration, verbal and visual. Taped to the edge of my computer.
commit to the craft.
Which might just be the theme of 2023.
The past year has been a slow grind of healing, and a slow return to the life I want. I have to assess, constantly, if I am making choices towards my goals and if these are the goals that suit me still. This might sound exhausting but I prefer the repeated check-ins, the assurance that I am on the right path.
I want to write, print postcards and create conversations.
I want to encourage you to create, to reach out to others and to stay connected. Expect more of this.
The downside of this snow is that it was wet, which means it is already melty, and can turn to ice overnight. Everything can shift so quickly. Knowing where I want to be heading helps me right my way.