Mid August Photo Dump

Hey lovely,
I recently read about someone who use to write, but stopped being called to write, and is now starting to write again.

I can’t remember who wrote about it, but I kind of hope it happens to me too.  It’s weird when a huge part of your identity just kind of falls off of you while you’re walking down the road.  Was it the loss of my marriage?  Was it Covid+police brutality+deep political dispair?  Was it the utter exhaustion of single parenting while trying to work and have friends and take care of my physical, emotional and spiritual body and maintain a relationship?  Did I outgrow writing, or did writing move on without me?

Whatever it was, I’m sending out a prayer to the Devine; may the impulse (and time) to write come back to me.

In the meantime . . . please enjoy these photos of food (and a table) I made and places I went with people I love.