“Asking your work to prove anything only invites doom.” – Art & Fear, David Bayles and Ted Orland I have detractors. It’s good. Everyone needs at least a few. I’ve been saving them up for a while now. All my life I’ve collected resentment for people who tried to keep me down, tried to control me, tried to use me for
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“How often it is difficult for most of us to give solitude any sort of priority in the kind of life that we live today. How we avoid it; how we are frightened of being alone; how easy it is never to let it happen; there is always something or someone to fill the void, even if it is
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This morning the last one in September, I woke early to finish an edit and got sucked into simply reading. As I read, I listened to the quiet house waking and the sounds of the day starting. At first there was nothing, then a twittering songbird, whistling briefly until silence again. Then a distant crow, and eventually, the kids’ on
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Editing. Again. And sorry again for how long it takes to edit a book. Loving is such hard work. I’m reminded again how we always say love is active, not passive. But now I see that patience may be the most active part. And how long has it taken me to learn that? And can I become patient enough to receive it?
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