Writing is an interesting craft, words, phrases, stories pop in an out constantly.
Sometimes as I dash for notebook and pencil they tarnish.
Not deterred, I wait for more or a forgotten one to return.
But it is not giants like P.G. Wodehouse, James Michener, Thurber, or White standing at the front of the line shouting CHARGE, no, amongst countless scrapes of paper filled with ideas, pencils, posted notes on the computer desk, there is a simple metal picture frame accenting a snapshot.
The image of a woman I encountered long ago, see: The Smile Before the Kiss, at a time when going through major life changes: a breakup, parties, and drugs
Moving into a new home and alone we walked together, confidence re-emerged. At this time writing was sporadic until a Christmas party she held, a guest asked where the home state is, Michigan says I and after describing the howling winds, mounds of the white stuff, and bone chilling temperatures, a typical Midwest winter, the guest shivers then encourages the pursuit of writing, this did not go unheeded.
Prominently placed amid the chaos on my desk her bright eyes, straight teeth, the nose ring conjure up a time of new beginnings and motivates the present and future.
