*I had a writing prompt yesterday that blew my mind in equal parts with busting my heart open. I was in tatters.

Simply put: Begin the writing with ‘I want’ and go from there. Anytime you get stuck, go back to ‘I want.’

Write and write and write.

Is it because I was a girl? is it because I was a wife? is it because I am a mom? It was unbearably hard to think of things I want, beyond world peace and the perfect eggs benedict.

Have I really absorbed our society so deeply that I don’t have any wants of my own?

No. Its not that. I had plenty to write. But if I go and look at it closely, which I will, it becomes an exercise just to get through it. Filled with ‘caveats’ and self-deprecations and honestly, I am smacked. Even in my writing, for me, simply personal, I am equivocating.

I feel like maybe this is something I should stick with. Turn it into some sort of ‘work’ that I center myself in for awhile. What do I want? For myself, for my days? What feeling do I want? What do I want that will get me there? What do I want FOR myself? OF myself?

What if I look at yesterday’s list in a year? Will things be different? Will my list have changed? What am I wanting then?

What do you want? Do you know? Are you on track? Is there a track?


Lovelove, in my navel-gazing way,


*the writing prompt was inspired by something I’m editing and I’ll share it when the work is finished.

antelope canyon
Photo by Paul IJsendoorn on


I love the word ‘willowy’. I immediately see a woman in a long white gown. the woman herself can be any color, but the gown is pure, she might be heading to a picnic. she might be wearing a hat, but there will be a stream and an actual willow. there is no other way, for me.

I am too short to have been willowy at any point in my life. It is also not the province of the overly busomy, I say. We can debate that at leisure, if you are so inclined.

Its the green in the background that completes the willowy woman. I wonder, dearly, what it is that completes me lately.

I’ve been noting the difference between maintenance and pleasure, I’ve uncovered some avoided things, I’ve recognized my penchant for obsessing over a friend’s health. (Someone somewhere needs me, is what that one boiled down to. I MUST SAVE THEM.)

I want to be willowy in the face of my needs. Graceful, sloped. Flowy. I want to be draped on the chaise of my discontent, swooning in my matcha milk bath.


I want to be willowy, damnit.


crop woman in bath in forest
ME! YES! SO LONG!! Photo by Rafaela Lima on