Sunday: Writing Church is in Session
What I'm reading: Denise Levertov.
What I'm listening to: NIKKI SIXX!!!

All writing meditations are living meditations. At least they are if you pursue writing as a spiritual discipline. Of course, the way I approach it can't be seen as "discipline," since it's capricious and wild as rain squalls and skunks. It will do what it will, and it will do it when it will. I try to remin open, to ride it out, to follow the rocky path that leads to the meadow. I usually get there.

Lately, with Nayeli's Seven, I am so deeply there. I feel much gratitude. I'm cranky and old, but I feel joy. Hummingbird, Devil's H, House of Broken Angels, all the blogs, my developing book of poetry, many reviews/blurbs/introductions/poems/haiku/stories/op-eds/essays/lists have finally fried my poor old Toshiba lap-top. Nayeli is beginning the demise of my bright shiny new one.

Tolstoy said it:

"The aim of an artist is not to solve a problem irrefutably, but to make people love life in all its countless, inexhaustible, manifestations."

Oh, by the way: The Devil's Highway has been selected as the first national "Brown" book. In other words, the first nationally-selected Latino book that is to be read by, um, I guess, everybody. Just in time for Perpetual Book Tour to restart. I'll see you on the road.

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