Wednesday, December 5, 2012
and on the third day
time for drifting and waiting...
I'll return to the blank page now and hope for the best. Or wait until morning, let it perc during the night.
This is the time of listening. You are trying to hear the inner siren's song at the center of your soul. You take little stabs at writing. You hold the pen and write a phrase. And pause, for the Voice is gone. Too frail. Too weak. You draw pictures to give presence to the pen.
Sophy Burnham (For Writers Only)