It is not the time to post what I had written, ready to go. As another writer says, it all seems so banal, my pen has dried up in the face of it all. Waking up early, the sun finally out after devastating rains, and today, the day our masks can come off, the birds singing, slow movements of premature spring and my granddaughter playing with her scooter up and down the hallway, it all feels possible.
Your words are true, Jeanne; it's not the moment for triteness. I'm glad you are writing, despite the global circumstances. Art is a place where we can put the pain so that we don't carry it inside ourselves. Xoxo Shan
Your words are so beautiful and convey a deep pain that is hard to capture in words. I'm grateful for your words, your perspective, your bright spirit that comes through even in troubled time. Sending love from Oregon, US.
Your words are true, Jeanne; it's not the moment for triteness. I'm glad you are writing, despite the global circumstances. Art is a place where we can put the pain so that we don't carry it inside ourselves. Xoxo Shan
Your words are so beautiful and convey a deep pain that is hard to capture in words. I'm grateful for your words, your perspective, your bright spirit that comes through even in troubled time. Sending love from Oregon, US.