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of Music

We are in the midst of the 50th anniversary of Woodstock: “3 days of peace and music” in which 31 bands played before approximately 400,000 people over the course of four days. See http://www.woodstockstory.com/bandsperformerssetsplaylists1969.html (accessed 8/17/2019); see also 40th Anniversary Collector’s Edition (1994, Warner Bros. Pictures). This music has served as a backdrop to my writing this week, as I’ve been listening to it, and to interviews about Woodstock on WXPN-FM (88.5, University of Philadelphia). The music, and the texts of the writers who so kindly agreed to be interviewed this week, have prompted me to think about the impact that stories have on us, whatever their form. (Thank yous and a big shout-out to Melanie Lambert, author of Wonder Woman in Disguise, found here: https://www.wonderwomanindisguise.com/ and Danielle Blackwood, author of Twelve Faces of the Goddess, found here: http://www.danielleblackwood.com/).

Regrettably, I was too young to go to Woodstock …

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Finding One’s Heart

Write to Publish Assignment #1 (originally published August 3, 2019)

(Exerpted)

She closed her eyes, settling her sit bones into the earth. She breathed in slowly, tasting the smell of the grass and soil. Damp, it felt. And there was a faint scent of moulder, the pine needles and leaves left from last fall, mixed and thrown about a hundred times in rain and wind. She rolled the flavor around her mouth as she exhaled slowly. Breathing in again, she focused on her posture, pushing her spine upward and widening her ribcage …. the air felt thick with summer. The insect chorus took auditory center stage. From the left, a straggler buzzed in, slowing to fly around her head before hurrying on, she imagined to join her sisters. Directly above, birds returned to their conversations, flitting from one branch to another in punctuation. Squirrels barked and skittered about. Leaves rustled in wind, the occasional breeze touching her face, teasing her hair, chilling her briefly.

“Home,” she felt. “This is home.” She waited …

When I am Old I will Wear Pink

Write to Publish Assignment #2 (originally published August 1, 2019)

(Excerpted)

The two women walked slowly, absorbed in each other. They wore jeans and boots, and both had silver hair. The one on the left had longer hair held back by a barrette that rested in the upper center of her back. She gesticulated frequently. The other wore a long, pink scarf and mostly nodded or shook her head in response. They walked through the tree line north, then shifted northwest, walking at angle to the rows of harvested cornstalks in the empty, rutted fields. … “I hated you,” the long-haired woman said to the woman with the pink scarf. … I vowed to fight you whenever I could.” “There were many ways to die where I come from,” the woman with the long hair mused, and I’ve lost someone to every one of them.” She was quiet a moment. The woman with the scarf looked at her

For more, see the new book, When I am Old I Shall Wear Pink, coming SOON!