Category: Motherwrit
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What does it mean to be a poet in a museum?
What does it mean to be a poet in a museum?
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4/2 Oooh April, looking good this Spring
I adore the month of April. That may seem a little self-serving, but I wasn’t born in April, and for most of my childhood, I despised my name. (see: Hey April, have you seen September?) But my adult self loves all the things in bloom, all the bursting color, the vagaries of unpredictable Kansas weather,…
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2/5 Hey Sunday, I see you standing there
Last week I dove into my mixed feelings about the daily writing practice–my resentment and guilt when that process doesn’t unleash the creative dragon within. At the root, the daily writing practice idea rests in creators being ready to receive when inspiration strikes. We are supplicants. What has Zoning looked like for me in the…
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Something (Not) New
I make fun of writers who blog about the creative drive. I poke fun of folks who pontificate on and on as if they’ve figured s*** out. Here I am, being an a**hole, writing about the creative drive–but I’m going to be honest and assure you that I have NO IDEA what I’m doing.
april pameticky 