Wild Honest Week
When I was writing regularly — back in university, some in high school — I don’t remember who told me to wait until I’d finished my writing to add the title. How do you know what to call it until…
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People ask me how I got into growing mushrooms. I’m not sure how anyone else gets into this, but for me, it was reluctantly, on the assurances of my dear partner. By the time he suggested we become full-time mushroom farmers, I had been through nearly 10 years of his promises fulfilled, in the realm…
And everything is compost. A great man died this past year — his name was Dennis R. — and he was not famous. He was great to me because he was my father’s brilliant, wild-and-white-haired, squinty-eyed, no-bullshit Mad Scientist boss, with a crazy smile. A creative man who taught me the miracle of compost. Or,…
Writing for myself can get pretty self-indulgent. I do it; I’ve always done it. But I think one of the problems with ONLY writing for oneself is that you never really get around to honing your craft. After all, what is the point of honing your writing? Isn’t it to better capture and communicate an…
“I don’t know what I think until I write it down.”
Joan Didion
“We must risk delight. We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world.”
Jack Gilbert
Deb, March 2004
Mazatlan, Mexico
“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”
Murakami
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
Maya Angelou
My grandmother, my uncle, my dad
Terre Haute, Indiana, around 1955.