Dancing queen

I watch my wife dance.

Her hips move, her feet glide,

slippy-slide on the hardwood floor,

her arms splay in an awkward spider-legged oopsie.

I watching her dance vibrato

after a glass and a half of Muscato.

I’m not sure she cares if I’m in the room, and that’s alright.

She does her best rocking to John Denver.

What?

Okay.

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The process

Most of my writing ideas come in the wee hours. I typically get out of bed between 5 and 5:15 in the morning. Put on the coffee and something usually comes to me. A phrase, an image, a sentence. I’m quick to jot it down because, even if it makes no sense, there’s a feeling behind it. A color, a conversation, a character’s voice, a small piece of the writing puzzle. My stuff tends to be filled with colors and textures, so I pay attention to the shadows and what’s beneath them. Maybe that’s why I gravitated towards photography, the play of light and shadow. And, of course, color. Continue reading “The process”