There's a special kind of perfection in the light that threads this piece. "...where your mother looks like fire wearing a moss-green housecoat...as powerful as the unrelenting Mojave sun...shines from fields of waist-high goldenrod..." I love how the imagery-within-the-image goes from burning, to remote, to a warm invitation to presence.
The question you posed at the end of this post reminds me of a poem a friend wrote about home. I'll look for it and send it your way; I think you'd enjoy it!
(P.S. I always go back and read all your pieces even if it takes me a few weeks to catch up from time to time, and they are ALWAYS a treat for me.)
Wow I didn't even realize that. I love that so much. My original memoir title when I first wrote it was, "Let the Light In" - light has definitely been a theme in my life. I'd love to read the poem you mentioned if you can find it. Thank you so much for reading my pieces. This newsletter is important to me so I'm glad to know you're finding something good here.
This was beautiful. I’m glad you challenged yourself with this. It really is beautiful and you should play around with more writing like this. Thanks for sharing with the world!
Jessy. Your writing always speaks to my heart, but this one really hit me. This was so simply beautiful that it made me cry. Thank you for reminding me to feel all the emotions
Aw, love. Thank you. It was a form I've never tried—the segmented essay. And it was a challenge to keep it short—to see if I could write something that could still make me feel even without the full story. I kept wanting to write more and give more details, but I wouldn't let myself, and this was the result. I appreciate you taking the time to read it and sharing your thoughts with me. I have something that I'm publishing next month that I think you'll enjoy as well. It's a letter to my mother that I'll never send. I'm excited to share it with you.
There's a special kind of perfection in the light that threads this piece. "...where your mother looks like fire wearing a moss-green housecoat...as powerful as the unrelenting Mojave sun...shines from fields of waist-high goldenrod..." I love how the imagery-within-the-image goes from burning, to remote, to a warm invitation to presence.
The question you posed at the end of this post reminds me of a poem a friend wrote about home. I'll look for it and send it your way; I think you'd enjoy it!
(P.S. I always go back and read all your pieces even if it takes me a few weeks to catch up from time to time, and they are ALWAYS a treat for me.)
Wow I didn't even realize that. I love that so much. My original memoir title when I first wrote it was, "Let the Light In" - light has definitely been a theme in my life. I'd love to read the poem you mentioned if you can find it. Thank you so much for reading my pieces. This newsletter is important to me so I'm glad to know you're finding something good here.
This was beautiful. I’m glad you challenged yourself with this. It really is beautiful and you should play around with more writing like this. Thanks for sharing with the world!
Thank you for reading. I've definitely been playing around with different forms and shorter word counts lately. I should have more to share here soon.
Jessy. Your writing always speaks to my heart, but this one really hit me. This was so simply beautiful that it made me cry. Thank you for reminding me to feel all the emotions
Aw, love. Thank you. It was a form I've never tried—the segmented essay. And it was a challenge to keep it short—to see if I could write something that could still make me feel even without the full story. I kept wanting to write more and give more details, but I wouldn't let myself, and this was the result. I appreciate you taking the time to read it and sharing your thoughts with me. I have something that I'm publishing next month that I think you'll enjoy as well. It's a letter to my mother that I'll never send. I'm excited to share it with you.