Whew — be safe out there today, Bay Area-ers. That wind is crazy, fickle like dice, snapping back in your face just when you thought you had the umbrella situated right and held tight, flipping the metal framing inside out, leaving your safety shield as a cup for the moon and wet.
We had a lovely Erotic Reading Circle last night, the first one at the Center for Sex and Culture‘s new space at 1349 Mission St! (Will you join with me here in a moment of good wishes that the CSC has found a good and solid home for awhile? Hooray!)
There were stories and blog posts, and fantasy worlds galore (some of our world, some of parallel universes or future times: fantastic) — and once again, as happens every time, I felt such gratitude for these readers, these folks willing to bring their words out into the world in front of strangers (who maybe don’t feel like strangers for long), folks willing to be present and engaged with others’ writing, folks willing to discuss erotic writing like it matters — because it does matter.
Thinking about many things this morning: writing as liberatory practice, grad school, oatmeal with quinoa, Access databases, green tea with mint, rain, relaxation, the ways our muscles and organs hold and store our histories, haircuts, deep breathing, the Real, metaphor as finding language for the unspeakable. None of these things is not like the other. What’s interweaving itself through your thoughts this morning?
An idea for a prompt: Write for 5-7 minutes about umbrellas as objects, as real things. Then write for 5-7 minutes about umbrellas as metaphors (for whatever springs to mind for you as you write). Write for 5-7 minutes about how rain feels falling on your body. Write for 5-7 minutes about rain as a metaphor (for whatever springs to mind for you as you write). Read back through what you’ve written, and circle lines you like, that pop out to you. It could be fun/productive, too, to interweave the ‘real’ and ‘metaphorical’ writing, like in the prompt described in this post.
Stay as warm as you can today, prefearbly as warm and dry as you want to. And if you want to go walking with your body up against the power of the wind and rain, I hope you have a good warm regathering place to return to, with blankets, hot tea with honey, maybe even a terrible movie that you love way in your bones.
Thank you for your generosity, the ways you have found to describe what they meant to be indescribably, for your words.