SOY
ESCRIBO
TENGO
RECUERDO
PIENSO
DIGO
DICEN
HAGO
CONFIESO
COMPARTO
ESTOY
       
  An Original Family
Oh, To Be Inspired
My Ritual
Ego and Me
El ritual de la escritura

Sometimes I get up before the sun does and I do a little writing. Generally, though, I write when my three men are asleep, after a long day of to-do's.
 
I sit facing the windows that keep me at a distance from the trees. My chair is wooden, crooked, uncomfortable, but it spins. My desk is a bit on the feminine side, of noble wood, honey-colored and docile. On my desk I have a little English teacup, given to me by Ori; a dried flower, a magnifying glass, a quill and inkwell...and a Little Prince, given to me by Zo.
 
I sometimes write on my terrace, when Summer is pure temptation, or next to my chimney when the cold gets to be too much,or really, in any corner of my house whenever my muse lets her hair down and does as she pleases.
 
Now, if I do notice that this might go on for a while, then there is a whole other ritual. first I light incense, until the aroma comes in through my ears; then, Deep Forest, Enigma or any Celtic music that will settle in my lungs. My monitor hurts my eyes with just bright light. My monitor front and center, and the moon in the background, serves as a wallpaper. I start hitting keys, like a child might do, with letters and no meaning: dljiemdwewij sdfjad eerdx xdfkdfslpqmx... and then syllables start appearing, then words, sentences and at last, a paragraph.
 
At two in the morning, a raspy and rude alarm clock goes off, I leave the words soaking and then I go to bed.

 
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