dreams but reality

i dreampt of club soda last night
and cameras
flashing images that were true
but awoke to a pink bridesmaid dress
and scribbled notes of a toast
i feel so much sadness saying

notes from a conference

i found these notes from a writer's conference i attended 2 years ago. they almost sound like a poem:

local is a state of mind
stories endure
"the things they carry," by Tim O'Brien
stories are for joining the past to the future
collecting memories-stories
and they become memory themselves
storytellers, scribes, memory keepers
Trail of Tears
really writing a letter to readers
keep writing direct/personal
stories are oral
"read well out loud"
be present, felt they were there with us
show up for stories that you don't like
AIDS in the heartland
population 485 Michael Perry (testament to how to be in the world)
paying attention, are we willing to show up?
find the thing that is about all of us
make the main point right away
methods meets craft
creative proecess
manage time/energy
the most important work is done before sitting down to write
don't tell, show
what is your reaction to the experience
Sam Lightner
theme statement is a guideline that draws a boundary
draft: stay relaxed, allow storytellers' voice to come through
-get the whole thing out at once
-charge through
-draft
-associations
vomit draft: so that a theme can emerge
collaborative editing
piece-by-piece, don't sit in awe of the finished house
never do the same thing twice
untried involved risk
in writing the greatest fear is failure
timid and predictable writing is not true
follow your ghosts
what is the story that haunts you?
what makes you turn your head?
intrigued by alternately, repelled
snowball with your curiosity
"what does it taste like in your mouth when you tell them that?"
trust your instincts
best, most powerful stories are past experiences
they make you who you are
there is no oasis (the clock is ticking)
-start doing good stories now
expecting resistance is key
no one is your cheerleader
you can get any story you want if you don't have a deadline
tap into your core, don't give up too soon
go the distance on your stories
if i have 1 story i could do before i die, what would it be?
get uncomfortable witht he truth
stories are rare
you wrote about longing without ever mentioning the word
don't focus on the immediate, look at the continuum
go to interesting places
they took him, they broke him and they threw him away
really what it means to be in iraq, lose someone that was like your son and then lose your mind
writing invades another's space
but people want their stories told
search for an intimate and anguished moment
no surprises
what you learn from doing stories is empathy
stories that are emblems of their time
nick kristof
different ways to tell stories
storytelling
prosumer multimedia
blogs
mentor/mentee relationship
take storytelling in different directions
op-ed
narrative thread
there is no perfect way
notes about description
audacity - audio editor
Mindy McAdams
Canon HD20 - $1,200
repurpose
Video NY Times
talk about my journey
idealistic intuition in a corporate world
intimate questions
hit the streets as often as possible
informed my career
idea of objectivity is a myth
the death of rural mexico
writing those stories that keep us awake at night
your work has to speak for itself
Jason Blair
diversity

a trail

there's a place i want to tell you about
where my sweat has covered the ground
on many monday afternoons
calf muscle lactic acid has shown me pain is only temporary
here
heart-shaped chlorophyll vessels shush as i pass a switchback
branches sway
far off industrial portland echoes with the sound of commerce
this place is named for a norwegian explorer no one now has ever met

gravel shifting
like the sparrows and crows
who lurk in shadows
and seek refuge from that concrete ecosystem below
gnats land and drown in the sweat rivulets near my clavicle
breathing
always breathing
i say a small intention for them
and perhaps for the rest of us
who seek refuge in this place

from RENT

"the opposite of war is not peace, it's creation."

The UNKNOWN

I wrote this poem about 5 years ago after graduating from college and starting my first job. Last week, I resigned from an iteration of that job. There are fragments of truth in what I wrote that ring so true. Again, I find myself on the precipice of the unknown, a familiar, yet daunting place to be. It is comforting to find wisdom in my 5-year-old words. All these years later, they are still so relevant to my life.

I have emerged from this long tunnel of crazy-muddy-flailing-foggy-hazed night
only to kiss the stars wide and bright
my excitement beats hot and fresh
into sweat beads on my brow
here i am at the beginning of another long voyage
the movement of these vibrations
cut me
in places where memories are not meant to be ripped
but apart they come
like microwaved celophane
melting off a pan
clinging, like my soul, for some scent of familiarity
i push myself, always, into the raging ocean of the unknown
simply for the challenge

I did it

I bought my ticket
I quit my job
This familiar pattern is shifting
into a new design
these curves don't have carpools or Outlook or conference calls
or paychecks or health insurance
my pattern is filled with "what-ifs" and "hows" and so many questions
all without answers
the journey i'm on now doesn't have an end
but i know
that this beginning sure feels good