#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Do dogs smile? On the beach, in her happy place, I'm convinced Suzi does. I have taken more than one picture of her over the years, on this very beach, with this beatific smile. I want to remember to smile more, the way Suzi smiles among these light drenched stones on a fresh summer morning, after we step down the steep steps from the path onto the beach.
I have a new writer joining the Featherstone workshop this week, referred in by a friend. I feel the smile in my whole body, like Suzi's, when I think of the women, their photos, their sharing, their writing, this time we're spending on memory and art and life and all its changing roles and relationships, and aging and the inspirational power and wisdom of nature, on Thursdays. I know this new person will fit right in because she was referred by a mutual friend.
After my walk I phoned my messages for my home number and heard the warm, cheerful voice of an old, old friend from college. We have not spoken in some years. We've connected on Linked In, and I thought we would meet, but it didn't happen. And she visited Sherborn and thought of me, and reached out again. We were editors on the daily student newspaper during college, and became friends. I was so happy to hear her voice in the message! Some friendships are well founded and get complicated. And so, you grow apart for necessary reasons. But, I'm eager to see her, reminisce, catch up. Our writing lives have taken very different paths. She was the editorial editor. I was the women's department editor. (An editorial role which was created as a feminist demand after a takeover and occupation of the news room some years before I joined the board in 1981.) It was a fairly turbulent position, but my friend was an important ally, another woman among all the men on the board who often didn't appreciate a feminist editorial voice. So, my dear old friend has surfaced again. I will return the call. I hope this time we will truly meet and have the chance to see where are lives have taken us and reclaim some gems we may have left behind that we may not even know we've been missing.
All photos and text ©Kelly DuMar