Why does one take time away from work, family, and the status quo to fly across a mountain range in Colorado, straight through a rainbow, and thwack onto the tarmac where a lightening storm keeps her grounded for another hour in anticipation of whatever is to come?
The answer, I think, has something to do with finding the restorative energy to return to all of these wonders and to see them, perhaps in a new light.
What I took away from Aspen Words this year was not the editor or agent whose calling was to launch my career (poets, I can hear you all laughing), but the peace of mind that literature, in all of its myriad forms, can and does still matter.
Today, I am grateful for having shared a week with each of you. You have given me each a lifetime of wonder.
Thank you, Aspen. And thank you, words.
For all of us who believe there is not one way. One genre. One spirit. One answer. Or even one question. This blog is for the writer before she was so, as well as for the reader who defies her expectations every time: it is for the poets, satirists, fiction writers, essayists, diarists, and ancient word wanderers; this blog is for the infinitely unwritten. To each, a celebration. A celebration to all.