I collect my talismans randomly and without much thought. Why one thing gets thrown in the closet or garbage and while others stick around in plain view is not entirely clear.

I wasn't nearly as scared as I thought I'd be last night, facilitating my first Write Around Portland workshop. My heart remained calm and my voice didn't waver. Maybe I drained out all my jitters in the days before. Maybe I actually liked, just a little bit, the feeling of faces turned with their attention to me, especially when I knew I was there not to teach but simply guide.

The room was poorly lit and their was a leak in one of the pipes right into our circle. People talked over each other and didn't follow the guidelines they'd just helped write, but they were all kind and enthusiastic and funny. The writing was good. I thought I'd be stumped about how to give positive feedback about somebody's piece that was full of cliches or so straightforward it offered no nuance. But it was easy to see the creativity stuck behind the cliche and how the simple, straightforward tellling of a bit of their lives was, perhaps, the best way to give voice to their story. There were also those that offered up real gems of imagery and rhythm and structure. I honestly look forward to seeing how we will all grow together.