A Leap of Faith on Clipped Wings

I was thinking about Algiz – about what it means to stay with the pain, to battle with the self, and to trust in progress. It reminded me of this so I will share with you a letter from a friend, received 9 Sept. 2011.


I have decided in the interest of my health and my family to give up writing. I missed the essay deadline and I just need to acknowledge that I am creating my own problems. As far as I can tell I am a control-freak- workaholic – who killed her white blood cell count through floods of stress by taking on too many projects. Remember reading deprivation week? The intention was to get caught up with all the half-finished projects and I couldn’t; there were too many. I am going on a self-imposed artist deprivation. I am no longer a writer. I can’t stand it anymore. I just need everything to be simple.

 I did want to record a short vision I had yesterday.

 I can see my soul very clearly. It lives in a dark concave space lit by a single hole to a bright moon sky. The cavern is lined with shelves full of bottled emotions. Some, faintly humming, are covered in cobwebs. They are being preserved for the appropriate time when the stars align and the monsters perish and every single piece is safe to be free. That is where my soul lives. My soul is emaciated and with tiny knobby hands it she is furiously canning, preserving, mixing, labeling, clambering on a precarious ladder to still more shelves. She’s living on just the amount of emotion she can lick from her fingers after twisting the lids as tight as she can.


Gravity drip-pit


Skinny leg -twist stretch

Wind-sear in my nostrils


Spine scratching air-drafts

Failing to push up enough

To push me up


I wanted bright-words


That last hope,

Answers in tattered finch feathers



It wasn’t supposed to be like disappointment


Concrete settled

Enough to shatter bone

And spray ribbon-red confetti

Bursting sausage skin

Soggier than shattered




They said the one who fails at falling

Wakes in the morning

Just to think

I can fix all things

But this


Ok, seriously, that’s the last thing. Keep this because I am just done with all of it. Writer no more!!!!


Leave a Reply