I spent most of a day putting together this photo. I emptied drawers of cookbooks and journals, explored books on my bookshelf and scraps of own writing. I called my husband asking him to pick up a box of fortune cookies and rummaged through the ancient oak furniture that holds our table linens to find my favorite cotton table cloth.
As I leafed through books and read scraps of writing, I was comforted by the texture of the paper on my fingertips, the black-lettered words before me taking on the color and movement of memories. I dumped the box of fortune cookies alongside my paper treasures and sliced open the cellophane neatly wrapping each one to experience the satisfying crunch of cookies breaking in my hands, making a mess. I tasted stolen bits, crumbs melted on my tongue. I sat at my desk, finger tips clicking on keyboard, posting my Day 20 blog.
The printer called on Friday. Mother's cookbook is ready. My youngest sister will be thrilled.
The printer called on Friday. Mother's cookbook is ready. My youngest sister will be thrilled.
Rw
Alive-est by Sam Davidson
Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind. If we follow the truth, it will bring us out safe at last. - Ralph Waldo Emerson When did you feel most alive recently? Where were you? What did you smell? What sights and sounds did you experience? Capture that moment on paper and recall that feeling. Then, when it’s time to create something, read your own words to reclaim a sense of being to motivate you to complete a task at hand. SD
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