…on the homefront and I rather like it that way. I woke the other morning and watched thick grey and white wispy clouds dancing with the moon. That nearly full moon, so bright in the sky, put rainbows up and backlit those ever changing shapes, or sometimes disappearing for some moments. The limbs of the trees around my window danced in the light winds that were pushing the clouds around at even greater speeds up there. It was quite mesmerizing to watch. I lay there at least an hour before dawn began to lighten the sky. Made me smile.
Later, I got up and walked on the Snake Mountain trail with my sexy man. We stopped in the woods and ate apples, enjoying how quiet it was there. Occasionally others enjoying a more rigorous hike than I am yet up to, walked on by with holiday greetings, their dogs joyful at the whole-family outing they were being included in. When we headed toward home, we stopped to see a flock of snow geese enjoying a field before wending their slow way south. I watched a few fly over the flock now and then. What graceful birds they are. Such are my kind of holiday moments.
I am looking ahead, pondering starting a business that I can continue from the road, since my man and I plan to travel in a few years. In the meantime I’m earning some cash for repaying student loans come spring. It is good to be busy physically, rather than mentally. There is restfulness in doing simple things and getting paid to do them. When I go home, I go home. I have no major investment beyond doing the job I was hired to do well enough to keep people happy and my body healthy. It’s nice to earn money and no responsibilities.
I wrote a wish list for things erotic in the coming year. It will be interesting to see if I can cross them all off the list:
- Complete my erotica book
- Fly in rope
- Make love with a girl
- Inspire submission from a sweet lady
- Some nice outdoor down and dirty with my wonderful partner
Have you got any kinky wishes for the new year?
College is nearly done. I am sad in some ways and relieved in others. I absolutely adore having access to all those books on writing craft and a humongous collection of poetry. One can always find a library packed full of fiction and nonfiction, but not stacks upon stacks of poetry and writing craft books. Alas my college library is just for active students. I will be sad not to have a few weeks a year for writing retreat. It’s amazingly inspiring and instructive. Stimulating too. I really must find ways to replace that. There are some local writing communities, but it’s not the same academic focus. That other focus makes things far more stimulating. I will miss the people and the conversations. Groups of brilliant, diverse college students of all ages talking issues, literature and transformation is incredibly stimulating. I have never found such a group anywhere else. I have learned as much from them as I have learned from the faculty. I will miss the pressure to perform. It helps me follow through to have deadlines upon which thousands of dollars depends. Either I do it, or waste that debt I’m accumulating. I made a book because of that. It’s not a great book, but it’s a book. My fourth and it’s the best one so far.
What I will not miss is the pressure to perform. I want to find out what my writing practice is like now without anyone pushing me. I have had fingers in my literary pie, for good reason, for two years. What will it be like now? And will I have enough stimulation to keep my momentum going? Will any of the connections I’ve made in college survive the lack of face time that will happen now? If I write a book, any kind of book, it will be because I wanted to make it passionately and I followed through. No deadlines, no push. It is freeing to have that spaciousness…and boy do I have a book on the burner.
I will also not miss going over this student manuscript. My topics for this poetry project were cancer, healing meditation, intergenerational trauma and self-esteem/image. It’s a story. Both happy and sad. Revising it has caused some turmoil. It’s rather like mucking out a shit stall over and over again. You’re bound to have some of that shit stick to you after you’re done. It’s been a struggle to keep my chin up reading that stuff over and again. Letting it rest will be a good idea. At some point, I intend to share some of it with my family. It could be very healing. Even if it’s a shit storm, speaking up can be empowering. It is using my voice to tell the truth, even if I am disowned. Truth is not always popular. People love their illusions. It makes them feel safe.
Thus, the last week to go before I walk the aisle toward my diploma. I have a senior presentation to organize, a discussion for the incoming students about time management, and a house to get ready for my son and his gf to hang out in for easy access to see my graduation and presentation. Sounds like a nice winding down. Hopefully there’s no last-minute push for more revision. I did radically change a few poems before I submitted my manuscript. They may want me to work on that more. Oy! I hope not.