the gift of words

The morning was spent reading through old files … they are scattered across more apps, external hard drives, and the cloud than I dare reveal. Some are handwritten and need to be transcribed. Others are illegible, possibly written in a dream state, and may need to be shredded.

In the mess of conference notes and business writing samples, I rediscovered a parcel of fiction and memoir writing. I can’t remember the last time I looked at these pieces, some dating back to the early 2000s. I had almost forgotten how my imagined characters and their voices would flow through me spilling their story onto the page.

I’ve been telling stories, both visually and orally, since I could hold a crayon and sound out the alphabet. Once I perfected my penmanship, writing became my medium and pastime of choice. Any chance I had was spent writing longhand in journals, notebooks, on loose leaf and any other kind of paper I could find.

Unearthing this treasure chest from my past so soon after returning from the desert is a gift like no other. In the spirit of Burning Man’s gift giving principle, I will share some of these treasures with each of you through a series of fictional and memoir posts.

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