My first profession was commercial/fine art photography & journalism. During the early days of the world wide web I was part of an experimental cooperative zine called Rag. Comprised of about a dozen women writers who also happened to be young mothers, we wrote, designed and published across a continent without ever meeting one another. Though it didn't last more than a year, it opened up a new way of writing and collaborating for all of us.
After several periodical editors I wrote for told me my style was a bit too lyrical and poetic I realized journalism wasn't my forte. I became a doula, then a yoga teacher. Ultimately I am a poet. I began using Twitter as my notebook for beginning thoughts for longer works. Micropoetry as it's been called is a thrilling way to play with the craft. Because several followers asked, I started a blog too. Some consider it prose. I see it as a way to marry my writing with images once again.
LIke most writers, my happiness depends upon writing. I remember reading a scientific study some time ago that examined the incidence of suicide among creative people. The highest number of suicides occurred in the writing field, particularly with poets. I think of this when my days are too busy for time to write. Then I make time. I want to keep writing for a long time.
We all go through stages in our lives when a certain author resonates with us. I think in this way we have relationships with writing by specific writers. Some I have danced with in this way include Jane Hirschfield, Annie Dillard, Jane Kenyon, W.S. Merwin, James Tate, Diane Ackerman, Richard Siken, Anne Michaels, Gregory Maguire, Billy Collins, Denise Levertov, Mirabai, Cormac McCarthy, Rumi, among others.
Great to have you with us. Welcome.