"Each sentence hung over an abyssal ocean or sky which held all possibilities, as well as the possibility of nothing." Writing used to be a sensual joy. It's more pounding now, more churning out material, wondering how to not get lost in the sea of sentences now ebbing and flowing in swift currents and tides. …
The Feral Work in the Next Room
Annie Dillard's The Writing Life. I should have read it back in February, when I first began approaching my current project. Funny thing is, the image she describes in the following paragraph is one I have kept in the back of my mind for years. A work in progress quickly becomes feral. It reverts …
Jump Starting the Words Again…
Okay. Just so you know, the few of you that come around and poke your awareness into my world, I have to begin just putting words down again. No structure. No editing. Just words. I've come to a bit of a frozen place, and I have to break out of it, so here …
The Limits of Language: Love
The substance of that human quality of mind, spirit, and action we refer to as "love" has a hard time landing in a word that even comes close to accurate representation and communication. "I love you" can mean any number of the following sentiments: You raise my level of erotic desire. You call forth …
How to Follow Your Heart: Part 2
Start with a cup of coffee. Fast from coffee altogether. But pay attention, and let words mean something. To pay requires cost. Be quiet. Find the quiet in the noise. If no quiet can be found, then sleep, and dream of it. Breathe. Oxygen and its life are rarely overrated. Holding breath …
JEFF BERRYMAN 