Writing...

I just spent 90 minutes writing.

And I wrote for 2 hours on the train earlier today.

Not grant writing. Not even journal or blog or email writing.

Not to denigrate those forms, they have helped sustain me.

But I have not written like this, for this amount of time, real creative writing, in YEARS.

And even this isn't entirely new, it's an article / story I'm working on for the class I'm taking, a memoir kind of piece about the making of See Me Naked.

But the primary point of importance here is that I wrote today, for 3 and 1/2 hours. Alone. Uninterrupted. Something I have not done since late spring 2004.

Five years.

I am humbled and saddened by that realization. Although I would not trade away one moment of motherhood. And I actually miss my little family, right now, now that the writing is done and only solitary bed awaits.

But I need to, must, need to know this and remember it and not, not falter -

I am a writer.

I am a good writer.

I love writing.

If it took a solo trip to get me started again, fine.

If I need to take a train ride once a month, fine.

Ferries are cheap, too, and the one to Bremerton and back takes nearly two hours.

I just cannot wait anymore. I have to do this, and what I need is chunks of time away from the voices of husband and son.

I love being quiet. I just love it. I love my family, too, and I bet I'll love them even more when I get to have my writing time. My dreaming time. My life.



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New Trees

A Summer of such busy-ness draws to a close... much producing, some teaching, lovely weeks of family time in Ohio - including a big family "withunion" as my son named it, a baptism, Cedar Point fun, the Henry County Fair, and more food than I probably should have eaten...

and a Fall full of challenges peeks at me from around the cooling corner...

The view from my window is sunny at the moment, trees still green, front yard browned from a summer of some blasting heat here in Seattle. There's a new tree with two trunks growing up and obscuring the mailbox, coming out of an old stump that we took for dead.

I am feeling some creative stirrings that I hope will become a new tree, or two even.

My son starts kindergarten one week from today. After a spring of research and worry and conviction that we'd wait a year, wait 'til 6, for kindergarten, he went and had a big old growth spurt this summer - not just physically, of course, but more essentially emotionally and psychically. No more fear on the playground at the park, but rather quiet confidence. Interest in other kids and openness to playing with them. Full sentences to adults, "Please may I have that, Mommy?" - "No, I don't like that, Mommy." Processing complex thoughts and questions and possible solutions. And then, after witnessing all that, a call from Leschi Elementary, that he'd leapt off the waiting list and into their Montessori program - so, one week from today, we're going to give a go. See what happens. Hope for the best.

My husband looks ahead to a new hip sometime this fall. More on that later.

Me - I hope for a new laptop, so that I can write anywhere in the world again. I look at the UW Extension Writing Certificate Programs, and I think I might just dive into a year of Popular Fiction... two years ago, I was all set to take the year-long Non Fiction courses when the job and move to San Diego kicked that idea out of commission. And now I think I have another chance - but I'm less drawn to Non Fiction these days. I want to write a novel. One that sells a gazillion copies. And makes me lots and lots and lots of money. So I can buy a house and take care of my family.

It's nice to be clear on that.

And yes, I will apply for some jobs so that I can earn money while I work on that big dream. I'm having a little trouble motivating towards those shorter term steps, but I promise I'll settle down and get to it, tomorrow. And do some grant writing, too.

But now it's time for lunch. Reading a play this afternoon. Maybe one I'll act in this winter...

I'm growing a new tree, or two maybe, I think.



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The Good Polar - or, What Goes Down...

There is a bright side of being bipolar.

What goes down, must come up.

So sayeth my husband, and he should know.

Some thoughts he has had since the demise of his truck -

1. Get a scooter;

2. Be a one car family;

3. Buy a horse - Cut the dead truck down into a carriage - Voila.

Still not sure what our future holds, but at least we are laughing. And the sun is shining on a Seattle full of reds and pinks and purples and blues and yellows and fuchsias and oranges and greens of every shade - a late blooming spring that is so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes.

And the birch trees in Benefit Park have leaves that talk as the breezes blow through.

Benefit Park. Our neighborhood park. Good name, isn't it?

One thing weighs on my mind - I want to go to OHIO in August. With my husband and son. Please, universe, help that happen.








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I am thankful...

I came home from work tonight, a good day of work, and this is what I found. Finn, and the picture he made at school.

"I am thankful for

my mommy and daddy."

And Kenny said, "That's what he said he was thankful for..."

and we looked at each other, in wonder. I felt dazzled. Almost giddy, but quieter.

It may just the best moment in my life, so far.

I, Maria, am thankful, for Finn. And for Kenny. For the unimaginably precious gift of a family.

Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.










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