Category: Uncategorized
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Direction: A Plan for this Space
At the beginning of the year, I promised myself that I would write every day in my journal. At the time I was really inspired by my old journals to start this habit again. I still am. However, writing every day quickly broke down. Now, I haven’t written in a…
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When I Became A Real Writer
When I started this blog nearly six years ago, I was full of wonder at the beauty of the world I was just waking up to. I was full of energy, which I used to read books, work hard in school, and dream about the future. There was nothing I…
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2021 Is Here
On the 30th of December I wrote a whole list of New Year’s Resolutions in my bullet journal. There are 33 of them, which is a huge number. The inspiration for these 33 resolutions came from the absolute craziness that was 2020. I say craziness, because I don’t mean that…
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Nostalgia Walk
Today I am going to put this here, a small piece of writing that I started in February this year, and am coming back to now. It seems like the right time to post this now. 🙂 The best part about walking outside was the nostalgia. It gripped Claire’s soul…
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Am I Still a Writer?
I try to create a perfect atmosphere for myself when I write. I make a cup of tea or coffee. I turn on nice lighting. I wrap myself in a blanket. I listen to a soundscape, song playlist, etc. I always think the atmosphere matters a great deal when I…
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Shadows.
This is what the light coming through my window in the late afternoon looks like. Across from the desk under my loft bed the room fills with a soft glow and creates this image on my sister’s dresser. The contrast between the shadow and the white door is what I…
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I miss it here
Over and over again I start blog posts and never finish them. Today I was looking back at my older posts and realized that I miss that. I miss coming here, not with anything big, but just with anything that I have to say. I used to write about everything:…
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The House of Mirth
“Once, when we were children, and I had rushed up after a long separation, and thrown my arms about her, she said: ‘Please don’t kiss me unless I ask you to, Gerty’ — and she did ask me, a minute later; but since then I’ve always waited to be asked.”…
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Sense and Sensibility. . . and Old Books
“And after all, Marianne, after all that is bewitching in the idea of a single and constant attachment, and all that can be said of one’s happiness depending entirely on any particular person, it is not meant — it is not fit — it is not possible that it should…
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Exploring
They traipsed through the fields recklessly that spring. All their lives the field had existed and they had seen it in every season and situation; covered in snow, full of corn, full of soy, full of weeds. Always with the trees rimming it in. But it had seemed so far…
Sentimental Writer 