The current issue of Chebacco focuses on the history of religion on Maine’s largest island and includes my essay on religion in Acadia National Park.
This is the end of my writing challenge, but not completing the exercise does not in any way feel like failure.
Learning to write well, creatively, productively applies as well to learning to live well, creatively, productively.
Teaching does not supplant writing, and the artist at some deeply significant level remains always a teacher.
I am back now, resolved to persevere. The pain stays with me, but in many ways I am recovered and reclaimed.
Write clearly. Obscurity may have its pleasures, but readers want your insight, your experience, your wisdom made plain. They appreciate clarity.
Going out of town today, heading for a brief respite in the Ozarks. Summer still hangs in the air, although small hints of autumn are beginning to appear. I’m looking forward to quiet and writing. [Daily post 060 of 260 in my year-long challenge.] ♨
Writing serves what others say about meditation, slowing the mind, becoming aware of one’s thoughts. It sifts and focuses the rapid-fire distractions of the mind.
Writer’s block is an imaginary obstacle conjured by an anxious, insecure, fearful ego. Its best antidote is writing.
The metaphor of composting works for more than writing. From the compost we spread on barren grounds to the fruits we enjoy and share with others, every small exertion somehow bears fruit.
Creativity is never procrastination. Our time in this world is a lived poem.
As a writer I’m with Richard Powers in finding more fulfillment in preparing myself as a receptacle for the creative experience than in producing a daily word count.