Spring cleaning means getting rid of the winter soot and smears, letting the light arrive fully so everything looks more spacious, more sensible, more inviting. Spring cleaning in our writing can mean finding pieces that were abandoned because we didn’t trust that voice or didn’t believe in the metaphor, or the critics were looking too closely over our shoulder. As I was cleaning my house, I picked up a porcelain bowl that my mother had found at a thrift shop, I had always seen it as a pretty dish, nothing special, nothing particularly meaningful. As I stood on a chair, dust cloth in hand, I turned the small bowl over and saw the Royal Dresden mark on the bottom. My mother grew up in serious poverty and taught herself about fine art whether with fabrics, painting, music, or various kinds of three-dimensional beauty. I had dismissed this piece as nothing more than a whimsical tchotchke. I stood there hearing the litany of names my mother had learned: Limoges, Balique, Waterford, Wedgewood, Delft, Royal Dresden. This was a voice I heard during my childhood, and I heard it now again with appreciation. Rereading our work from years or months past is like turning over that bowl. We can hear that past voice with better clarity. Distance can remove biases or assumptions we have about our own writing, the characterizations we attach to our cadence, vocabulary, or metaphorical meanings. Go into your writing cabinets, turn over your pages, recognize the quality of phrasing and the wisdom of meaning. Let your past voice speak to you now and hear it with respect. Doing so can restore a sense of self we didn’t know was forgotten. That voice was reaching toward this present you, just as you are now writing toward your future self. Allow yourself that invaluable conversation.
Upcoming Events
Heat Wave Workshop! Need a reprieve from simmering temperatures? Join me for a two-day, in-person, open-genre, all-out spree of writing past the humidity and scorch. We will meet in Amherst, Massachusetts on July 11th & 12th and write in response to prompts that can only be delivered in person. We will follow the Amherst Writers & Artists workshop method of trust and respect; writers of all experience levels are welcome; space limited. Cost: $300. Information: maureen@maureenbjones.com
Prompt Photo
