For me it is the water. Always the water. The closer to its source I go, the closer I find myself to my own.
Flat tires and sunsets: A story of answered prayer
Sometimes, we have to look through the weirdest circumstances to encounter God. This is a story of one of those times.
The Lament of Words
These words and thoughts
and thoughts and words
Time to come clean…
I think part of the problem is that I sort of lost focus. I had begun to drift into what can be a dangerous area for writers. I had started to think I needed to write about things people wanted to read.
It is what it IS: The story of a story about a story
I have to admit, it’s hard to explain. But there’s something about the creative process that has a mind of its own, so to speak. It’s as if, even thought it’s a part of you, it’s somehow mysteriously apart from you. And so you have to honor what the idea or the image or the sculpture or the song or whatever it is, is.