The Well Is Dry

I am low on inspiration today. I had typed a piece I wrote in the 7th grade; the fates of technology did not allow it to be printed.

Just Another Day

Electronic communication has its perils as well as its potential. I've had some very disappointing experiences with individuals and listservs with e-mail as a primary means of communication. On a good day, expressing one's self in a place like this is like singing from the rooftop. On a bad day, it's like throwing a message in a bottle to a cold sea or desperately flapping a blanket to send smoke signals.

A Warm Welcome

Hello, cyber-seekers. Welcome to wordsanctuary, a place to share thoughts and reflections on the power of words. As a teacher, writer, and citizen of the world, I am regularly amazed at language's potential to harm or to heal. In the spirit of Walt Whitman (who boldly self-published Leaves of Grass) and also of Emily Dickinson (who boldly stopped seeking approval of her work and wrote for herself), I will share some of my musings. As a former journalist and marketing writer, I keep an eye out for trends in language. I may comment on these, too. I am perhaps not cynical enough to be fully accepted among journalists, nor dreamy enough to feel entirely at home among self-labeled creative writers. Maybe I am both/and. Well, at least, navigating disparate worlds fosters creativity. As a mother and teacher, I'm also very concerned about the young -- their acquisition of language and their use of it once mastery has begun. Happy reading, happy writing, and please do respond as your spirit, heart, or mind moves you.