Block by Linda Pastan I place one word slowly in front of the other, like learning to walk again after an illness.
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cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Block by Linda Pastan I place one word slowly in front of the other, like learning to walk again after an illness.
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I was introduced to the online magazine Red Tent Living by a friend. She shared Red Tent articles on Facebook, including those she had written and some by other writers.
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I have killed no less than 20 crickets today, at least 10 flies. They are the only noise piercing the silence of this writing retreat, the peace of this lodge which perches on a rock bed in the canyon.
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“You do not write the best you can for the sake of art, but for the sake of returning your talent increased to the invisible God, to use or not use as He sees fit.” –Flannery O’Connor I remember sitting in the post office parking lot that day, the heat of mid May filling my…
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This Christmas, I was rifling through some drawers in my bedroom in search of a gift I must have ‘hidden too well’ when I found a plastic baggie full of small, brown cards.
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“What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or does it explode?” ~ Langston Hughes
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Truth. It’s a deceivingly simple word—one we’re tempted to believe comes flat like a pancake instead of layered like a wine.
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I grew up in a war zone. My bunker was my bedroom where I dug deep into the recesses of my inner being searching for safety.
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Recently, a major illness made it impossible to continue working and I lost my business.
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“I notice you haven’t written in some time.” My friend and I were chatting over lunch.
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