#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
We go out later than usual; a friend joins me and the dogs and the ferns waving good morning from the edge of the swamp. So, it's a talking walk, not a silent one, which is very pleasant with a best friend to catch up on.
Then, another essay writing day, expansive. Revision. Some small additions. I surprise myself a bit, discovery. And then, as always, the worry: where is this going, this risk, and I think if anyone reads it, except few will. But, if it's ever published, I won't be able to control who reads it. So, I have to be willing for anyone to read it. And, it's personal, of course it is. This is why I'm writing it, to say what I have to say.
Tonight, I go to a reading nearby, by the poet Martha Collins. And after she reads, in the conversation part, answering questions, she says the remarkable exact thing I'm grateful to hear tonight:
My censors are my muses. When I hear the voice that says you can't say that, well, then that's what I have to do.
All photos and text ©Kelly DuMar 2018