writing, the creative journey and other colorful pieces of life
Monday, January 17, 2011
She doesn't like to be chased or cornered; she's feline in that way. But sometimes when it's quiet and dark she'll visit, bringing gifts. She was particularly generous the other night, giving me a storyline-intact dream, translatable to paper. And then in the foggy not-awake, the kind of dialogue only characters can create themselves. In my organizing process I find other dream stories scratched quickly on scraps of paper, sketches of a moving target. Sometimes she eludes us when we seek her, but our job is to clear the space and let her arrive.