I willl try to take a picture, thanks for asking. But have to wait for my daughter. She has that kind if phone. Some are four or five inches, one is much bigger.
You’re a great corresponder. The first time, years ago, I emailed you and you responded I about dropped dead. Your encouragement kept me writing during a bleak period. You’re the best and I adore you.
You are lovely to say so, and I'm gkld you got through a bleak period and are writing here!Just read your red wheelbarrow poem. Om my god. Yes to everything.
This is marvelous; I keep rereading it. On the third read, I finally began to speculate about the books themselves. At first, I read it as the readers were reading books, as an abstract idea. Then I began to seebooks from many places and times. I wonder which you have in mind during the crafting process: books as an idea, or a particular book (or era or style or tone of book) for each reader?
Thanks for sharing that your writer friend googled you. It’s what happens when we reach a certain age, people start googling for different information about us. Beautiful piece. Thank you for the giggles
How wonderful Abigail. You took me back to when I was a young mother, and my time alone to create was always in the middle of the night. I can envision your world of readers and see you making these while the world sleeps. YAY to you!!!!!!!!
But the image is from Unsplash. Don't you have a camera on your phone? I think I am missing the whole point. I love that. How can I get you to read my writing? I don’t think you are dead.
I, too, am very glad that you're not dead. Neither am I. Yet. And damn! I wish I could see your readers with their reptilian bodies! Pics? I need to make something with my hands, my brain is too tired these days to string words together. Maybe I'll get some good paper and charcoals, or Chinese ink, start with the shadows/lights on the mountain across the road. Stay well, Abigail. I love being one of your flesh and blood readers.
I love that you’re here in this battered world, reading someone’s WIP, sculpting readers and as ready as anyone ever is for What Comes Next.
Thank you. The how to like it part is harder. I do a lot of turning off the news.
I can picture your little readers all scattered across your tabletop. How tall are they?
I willl try to take a picture, thanks for asking. But have to wait for my daughter. She has that kind if phone. Some are four or five inches, one is much bigger.
That's much larger than I envisioned. I was picturing little green army men in height.
You’re a great corresponder. The first time, years ago, I emailed you and you responded I about dropped dead. Your encouragement kept me writing during a bleak period. You’re the best and I adore you.
You are lovely to say so, and I'm gkld you got through a bleak period and are writing here!Just read your red wheelbarrow poem. Om my god. Yes to everything.
You have made my day, Abby. Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here.
me too. and you.
This is marvelous; I keep rereading it. On the third read, I finally began to speculate about the books themselves. At first, I read it as the readers were reading books, as an abstract idea. Then I began to seebooks from many places and times. I wonder which you have in mind during the crafting process: books as an idea, or a particular book (or era or style or tone of book) for each reader?
I would love to see your dining room table. I would love to keep reading whatever you feel like writing about.
Thanks for sharing that your writer friend googled you. It’s what happens when we reach a certain age, people start googling for different information about us. Beautiful piece. Thank you for the giggles
If I were white clay hanging around with you, I’d have a hard time being serious also.
Thank you for bringing the clay to life
Loving your back
🌹
How wonderful Abigail. You took me back to when I was a young mother, and my time alone to create was always in the middle of the night. I can envision your world of readers and see you making these while the world sleeps. YAY to you!!!!!!!!
But the image is from Unsplash. Don't you have a camera on your phone? I think I am missing the whole point. I love that. How can I get you to read my writing? I don’t think you are dead.
I, too, am very glad that you're not dead. Neither am I. Yet. And damn! I wish I could see your readers with their reptilian bodies! Pics? I need to make something with my hands, my brain is too tired these days to string words together. Maybe I'll get some good paper and charcoals, or Chinese ink, start with the shadows/lights on the mountain across the road. Stay well, Abigail. I love being one of your flesh and blood readers.
A friend said yesterday that when he wakes up and something starts to hurt, he says, "Thank heavens! I'm still alive!"
I just found you, and love everything about you. I am a lovely young 65, and over the decades, a fair writer.
This post took my breath away. Please be so kind as to share a picture of your dining room table, please.
For all these years of my well lived life, there has never been anything more intoxicating to me, than a man reading a book.