Monday Longing

We’ve rearranged the pictures in our house. It’s discombobulating. It’s like I live in a museum.

I mean, I do live in a museum that chronicles the last 20 years of our lives. There’s a painting of my father-in-law, painted by my husband. A painting by Liz when she was maybe in 2nd grade. I found pictures this weekend of when I’d run a half-marathon. And although I remember that year as being so hard, there’s Liz, ready for her first day of school with her can-do attitude shining from the frame.

Memory is a tricky thing. I love reading memoir. I love writing poetry based on my faulty memory. But I don’t want to live in my memory. My memory that glosses over some of the good stuff in favor of the hard. Because that’s how brains are designed.

Mondays are hard for me. Note it shows here: how my brain is everywhere and nowhere. Chris and the kids are back at their day jobs (work & school). And I’m back within my freelance life. I grow weary of making it up as I go along, although I know everyone is doing that, even if their surroundings are the same every Monday morning: work & school.

My office has been rearranged. The Theodore Roethke “On Poetry & Craft” moved from the dining room to my office. I don’t know if I like it here, but maybe it will help the genius that lives in my walls. Maybe the genius will visit me this week, while I’m making it up as I go along.

Here’s two line from Theodore Roethke for you:

Eternal apprenticeship is the life of the true poet.

That intense profound sharp longing to make a true poem.

Isn’t that just the truth? I mean, for me it is.

Happy Monday to you!

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