Words, words, words

Last night was the book release party for the Oakland Word Anthology.  I didn't anticipate the excitment and warmth I would feel holding that bound book.  Wow, I'm published.  The paper, the font, the binding, I just loved touching it.  See something I wrote in a table of contents and typeset is an experience like nothing else I've experienced in my life.  Gratitude and thanksgiving to the Oakland Word program for making this all possible!

I got to read again, my story about my parents' acupunture clinic.  I think I'm getting better each time I read it.  At least I try harder to be theatrical.  If anything, I just hope to keep writing for the joy of it.  I realized that putting too much pressure on myself for some kind of recognition or success was the biggest buzz kill to writing.  Life is stifling to me with those kinds of contraints, as is writing.  Art needs to be an element for living, not a destination, tool, or objective.

Electric sky

picnic in Benicia's city park

spreading out on the waterfront of Benicia

festive spirit

war paint

pow pow

Oh, how pretty.

I had a lovely Independence Day, not celebrating so much unfettered patriotism, but the American past time of picnicking and taking in fireworks.  Maybe another kind of patriotism?  But it was delightful to spend the afternoon with my friend and her mommy, snacking on sausages and apple sauce.  And we took in the spectacular sights of the fireworks show and reveled the magic of it.  It seems like fireworks never fail to inspire wonder and surprise in people.  They are just too dramatic and beautiful, bursting color through a black sky.  And the pop of cannons, with scary shades of weapon fire, keep you looking for what will happen.  Thank you, 4th of July.