How I Got Here

Not so subtle, sometimes sloppy, metaphor mixer on a mission to become a more deliberate writer.

Academic Background:

  • English BA with recently expired Minnesotan license to teach.
  • Associates in Library Information Technology.

My formal writing background is in Creative Nonfiction.  I’ve never taken a Poetry or Fiction writing class which makes my attempts at both genres… interesting.  My informal writing background includes three blogs:

Hot-For-Jesus Former Fundie (my first started in 2007);
teandoranges (Jesus-Free creative outlet);
User (tumblr scrapbook).

The expiration of my teaching license in the summer of 2012 highlighted the fact that it was time to let go of my safety net after over thirteen years as a waitress, ten of them consecutively, and that I had graduated to a full-time day job at local libraries which allows me to respect myself and play fewer bullshit mind games with the general public and instead attempt to play mind games, or mine the mind games, with myself… hence this archiving of the internal labyrinth with hoof and foot prints stacked and stored and ignored in boxes and drawers and shelves.

This blog is to expose and recompose the Big Ones that nudge me during nap-time and the little ones that deserve careful handling, all sizes gathering dust, creating a tightly knotted internal environment that makes me want to run out the door instead of acknowledge the neatly stacked stacks and stacks, stacks which unsurprisingly don’t stay stacked when the emotional landscape is visited by an aftershock.

Travel helps untangle internal knots.  I am inspired by good writers and fearless travelers.  S., an example of both, recently came into my life while on a larger journey and left before I could properly tie him to the kitchen sink.  I wanted to go with him, but couldn’t say that, and couldn’t do that.  I can’t afford to budget a prolonged stay from home, and there are all sorts of excuses for that.  Excuses will fade.

In the meantime, I will actively work on strengthening my writing via a class or writing group beyond this blog.  My inward journey has to be as deliberate and deep as any well-planned trip to Bali, and as spontaneous as any fly-by-night trip across blue highways.

Finally, I am the daughter of a too-talented-for-his-own-good musician, who was the son of a fairly-serious musician who was the son of a music-is-a-serious-hobby musician.  I have a love-hate relationship with music.  Being kick-ass at music often came too easily for me.  Now I gravitate to writing, where my sloppiness is undeniable.

As a recovering musician I’ve deliberately removed music from my life, but to hasten the mapping of the labyrinth, as we speak, I am listening to the opera Ariadne by Johan Georg Conradi.  The Music and the myth is relevant and it is necessary.  Silence can accompany me only so far.



*I am aware that there are a few too-long sentences above… but as a fan of Dickens, Tolstoy, et. al. … please allow me these sentences, just this once… or maybe one or two or thirteen more times in the future.  After all, this blog is in part inspired by labyrinths.


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