What good is it to write words that do not feel.
Words must reach out and touch you.
Touch your flesh, your nape, your lips.
Ruffle through your hair.
Fingers across a cheek, a nipple, around an areola over bumps.
Slither down the middle of the back, touch the wrinkles of foreskin,
brush the goosebumps on an arm. If you don't feel the words, what good are they anyway?
This beautiful leather Journal has Southern Pacific railway system map of the San Francisco area etched in it. I love it and it will become a companion to the other beautiful leather Journal I've been carrying for years now.
Two very thoughtful gifts from my wife, Cathy. I now have both volumes of the Letters of Sylvia Plath.
Going into the holiday was kind of rocky as I was ill between Thursday and basically Sunday and part of Monday. My eyes hurt too much to even read so I felt like those were days of waste. But, I'm back and ready to meet life head on.
Reading and Workshop by Lola Haskins this past weekend. Her reading was very intimate - she did not read from the page, but from her heart.
Saturday's workshop allowed me to look at the possible and away from every page up to this point. This was a good thing.
Michael Allyn Wells - notes & musings