before i begin my writing day i sometimes read online journals to see what's new going on out there

today is the first day ive done this in awhile.

i know it seems altogether dramatic, but i got literally upset. im not going to name the journal or any folks (perhaps i just ran into a not-very-good/filler-type issue--not sure), but i can tell you i was literally upset. the writing was pretty dreadful. of course im finding problems in my own writing or else i wouldnt get to this point so easily.

i thought: i'll write fiction for awhile until i find my love/my rhythm again for/in poetry (not that ive lost it really)--i might be under the weather with it, im not sure. i went one poet to the next in the journal so upset with the state of poetry, until i came to Abraham Smith, which of course makes sense that he would be my good friend [:)], & so i got to feeling okay again. i was still disappointed scrolling through the journal, but i had little glimpses that poetry was still sound thanks to writers like Andrew Zawacki & Allison Titus & Michael Rerick & Mara Vahratian. and so i continue on with the poetry.

and so i take myself down to the beach! and talk to my sister-Rooooouch for a good hour--she & budz & g are fresh back from 3 weeks in england & scotland. and now i make dinner for one & prepare for top chef! i looooove me some top chef! with a nice brouilly.


photos: [my beach house writing area] [sunflowers. every time i think about them wistfully from past connotations & growing them, i will buy one to make myself smile]