The only thing one can give an artist is leisure in which to work. To give an artist leisure is actually to take part in his (and her) creation. -Ezra Pound, poet (30 Oct 1885-1972)
And no one can give you leisure if you won’t accept it. Time and again, I work with people who long to write and who will not stop the frantic busyness with which they choke themselves. They have enough money to live on. They could have enough time. Still, they cram their lives with commitments, obligations and crises. I know these want- to-be writers well – I have been one of them.
Writing, real writing is terrifying. You and I sit in front of a blank page and tear off our skin. We peel back layer after layer until we are down to what often feels like unbearable truth, but is almost always unbearable beauty. Here is this week’s game: Find a quiet place. Set your timer for an hour. Begin with this: I kill my writing every time I…
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