opening.

I went to a writing workshop last Saturday. It was taught my the lovely and inspiring Jane Hirshfield. If you aren't familiar with her work, check it out. "This was once a love poem" is a favorite of mine.

The workshop involved developing first lines that don't just open up a poem or essay, but open the possibility of many directions. It reminded me how much I crave to be playful and creative. How my soul longs to pour out images, without summarizing or boiling down or analyzing. Sometimes we just need to let ourselves be creative without purpose, just to see what comes out.

Here's one of the lines that came out of my writing at the workshop:

"A mound of wet clay contains within itself an infinite number of possible becomings, but its beginnings are always the same: dark, sloppy, and of the earth."