Tuesday, May 21, 2013

A Writing Workshop: Teaching What I Need

I went upstairs to our "filled with books and musical instruments" room to take this photo, and as I unwrapped my 1969 manual Olivetti, the smell of typewriter key oil wafted up and I was overwhelmed with memory, yes, but also a sense of loss.

As my life kept changing and twisting itself to meet the needs of my depression and anxiety...as I got further and further from my essential, born-to-be self, I held onto some things as I put others away under lock and key.

One of the things that went under lock and key until four years ago, of course, was dance. I see my life now in two parts: Before Returning to Dance and After Returning to Dance.

One of the things that I held onto was my love of literature and writing.

From the time I was small, books were my life raft; books felt like a more peaceful way of subsuming my true self than drowning it in the stormy ocean of violent emotions around me.

In books, too, I got glimpses of other worlds, other ways of being, other possibilities for my life.

Books saved me.

The fact that I then thought I wanted to write them...well, that made sense.

But it was painful for me, this writing business, and I didn't understand myself well enough to do it in a truthful way, a way that means something to the reader and moves beyond trite or predictable.

But then...Marcy (Oh...it is always Marcy...) got me this typewriter and something about the physicality of a manual changed everything. I knew I HAD to use it and so I sat down and started and worked my way through 500 pages of a completed manuscript (too long!!!).

The finishing is so important.

The beginning is too, but it's the finishing that counts most.  Anyone can begin. There are drawers and drawers full of beginnings all over the world.

I had always written in other genres -- essays, mostly, but the novel was some High Ideal that I could not forgive myself for not giving a go.  And then I had.  (And Marcy would assert that my Biggest Gift is poetry but that's another story.)

And then dancing came. (It's all so wrapped up together and complicated, isn't it? These lives we lead and the paths and the journeys.)

I barely write anymore. I write this blog. I do a bit of journaling to sort my thoughts.

Lately, I have felt the call of something more.

So it makes sense that I am offering a writing workshop at the studio, starting Wednesday, May 29th, for six weeks.

If you have started a bit of writing here and there or even just DREAM of writing, this workshop is for you.

We'll get past the crap that stops you and we'll work on outlining a project you can finish.

If you want to join us, details and payment information are here.