Writing: I get lost. I recover. 

By  Meredith Resnick

On Writing

I have gained a new appreciation for the way I create on the page.
And how I express myself.
The singularity of my voice and the mosaic nature of my process.

I honor a validity no expert can teach and no framework can bestow.
I wait for and follow ideas. I get lost. I recover.

I listen to direction I receive internally.
And notice numinous clues that catch my eye and my heart.

I know on a visceral level what to trust and who.
And trust myself.

I have gained affirmation that there is no one way to tell a story, to write a memoir, to create a piece of art.
Pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, hands in a puddle of paint.
These are vehicles not only of telling but of listening.

I give them, and me, space and liberty to live.


Photo by Bakr Magrabi

About the author

I have kept a journal for more than three decades and always have some sort of notebook with me. I record my dreams. The writing I most love to do comes from fragmented ideas I've collected, or from a word or two written on a scrap of paper or the palm of my hand.

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