A Month Long Birthday Celebration
Asking myself questions always leads me to unexpected places. This was a great prompt!
Who am I really writing for (besides me)?
What is my deeper purpose on the page (and beyond their margins)?
Where do I think this growing body of words is taking me over the next 25 years?
How can I be so scared and exhilarated by the stories within me at the same time?
When will I give myself the same love, consideration, and kindness I give so freely to others?
Why does my brain always seek slippery spiraling answers when I want to sleep or shower?
Why is my study room home to so many blank notebooks and so many writing implements?
What if my life were a series of Rubik’s Cubes with no clear solutions?
Is joy a fleeting luxury for me?
Is writing my obsessive self-indulgence?
Why is it so difficult to balance a writing life with a lived one and a shared one?
Is there ever an end to these questions when my restless mind continues to grow “curiouser and curiouser”?
Asking myself questions always leads me to unexpected places. This was a great prompt!
Who am I really writing for (besides me)?
What is my deeper purpose on the page (and beyond their margins)?
Where do I think this growing body of words is taking me over the next 25 years?
How can I be so scared and exhilarated by the stories within me at the same time?
When will I give myself the same love, consideration, and kindness I give so freely to others?
Why does my brain always seek slippery spiraling answers when I want to sleep or shower?
Why is my study room home to so many blank notebooks and so many writing implements?
What if my life were a series of Rubik’s Cubes with no clear solutions?
Is joy a fleeting luxury for me?
Is writing my obsessive self-indulgence?
Why is it so difficult to balance a writing life with a lived one and a shared one?
Is there ever an end to these questions when my restless mind continues to grow “curiouser and curiouser”?