My Journal

Doggedly I've kept a journal since 1997, when I took The Artist's Way "morning pages" directive. At first I hated the discipline of a daily journal. Then I loved it. Currently it's an off-and-on thing, because I'm much more likely to start writing when I start my morning by READING some(body else's) great poetry or prose. (B.H. Fairchild, Kathleen Finneran, Suzanne Rhodenbaugh, for starters. . . If I've bought your chapbook be sure that I do read it -- it turns out that the better I know the author the more I'm inspired.) A kick-start of inspiration, plain and simple.

My journal by contrast is 60 volumes of the dullest document ever produced by humanity, a chronicle of the dullest possible existence, chosen because that is the placid kind that permits the most writing time.