Today was a lovely,
quiet Sunday. I opened all the doors and windows and let the Spring Breezes
blow through the house. And as I walked through the Den to open the door to the
balcony, my new fountain pens and chocolate ink called out to me. And I’m not
one to ignore the call of any pen — especially a fabulous fountain pen!
There’s something magical about the flow of ink onto paper.
About how my thoughts flow through my hand and without effort words appear at
my fingertips. My hand wraps around the pen naturally, and I effervesce with
thoughts pouring out onto the page. I thrill at the curling of the letters on
the page, and throw dabs of calligraphic flourish along the way.
My default writing
method has been Journaling, which I’ve done extensively throughout my life. But
along the way, other writing styles — some short stories, a few novels, a
handful of songs, and hundreds of poems. Today was a Poetry Day.
When I need to thing things out, talk things out, that’s
when I journal — typically pages and pages, for days and days on end. But when
I want to reflect, analyze, and truly let my creativity flow — that’s when I
turn to poetry. I wrote my first poem back in elementary school, and it’s something
I’ve continued to turn to. And today, with the breezes blowing, eight poems
flowed freely. A Sunday of writing is definitely the Write Stuff for me.
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