Nobody's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

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The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Thursday, May 01, 2014

Pretty quiet around here. Pretty, quiet. A reader will have noticed the fewness of word on Creekbed. Likely grateful. Me too. I have right now the pleasure and privilege of a tremendous writing program, great mentors and peers. I wish to make with it, contribute, not reinforce or destroy. The writing is close, concentrated. I try to take much greater care with words. Grow them, grow me. Cultivate. Practice and craft. More listening, less noise and reaction.

Old Creekbed stands as testament to the present adolescent spew, the wall of noise. Our birth pains.

Here is to growth.