Can you think of a better place than an entire house filled with books and art for a group of writers and artists to meet once a month to dive into craft?
Besides lending itself to good company, tasty nibbles, and an occasional flute of prosecco, The House of Hanging Words, thusly dubbed by some band of merry scribes, offers a space rife with inspiration. Ideas fly off its sunny walls, funnel thoughts through furiously scribbling pens, and splash them onto sheaves of pristine paper, as they did here…
I know myself linked by chains of fire –
orange tongues stretching backwards in time
to lives – short, long, and in between – chain links to the present – the ‘now’ –
warmth swaddled in life’s nano-second,
reaching into the future
Time bursts forth in all directions with me at the epicenter
twirling, dancing on tip-toes, spinning pirouettes or
mimicking Professor Hardorp sitting on a swivel chair – a brick in each hand demonstrating
What if I had chosen the path behind me and diagonally to the left?
Where would I be now?
Skipping across the universe
or running circles
at warp speed?
Would I have missed another’s magnificence as I rushed by
as I often do now
in this reality?
writing these words, one after another –
surrounded by beauty
– my fellow writers –
and finding themselves in the now, this moment – nourished by one another’s attention,
bursting into hot-white, orange light
beacons to one another’s souls
to the beauty
each of us
What inspires you to dance, write, paint, sing, smile? And thanks for stopping by today. Your visit is always appreciated.