cock-a-doodle-doo

I wrote my very first three notebook Morning Pages one day late May, early June, 2011. Having retired and been led to Julia Cameron’s “The Artist Way.” I have never missed a day writing three pages since, almost all early in the morning ahead of most of the day’s noise. There’ve been a few later in the day. All 11 years of these Pages composed nearly always on a desk or table, a few times in an airplane seat on a crazy early flight.

Last week I spent four mornings in Missouri (I could add “magical” to be all alliterative and everything – magical Missouri mornings). The first morning, two Wednesday’s ago, going with the flow of the setting, I carried my notebook to a stand-in dining-room table, writing my Pages amidst kids and adults being the moving, noisy things that they are. It was okay. The next morning, the house still and quiet – and I’m counting roosters as quiet – I took a small, wooden paint palette from my backpack, which I’d used/brought along to keep my books from getting squished, and I leaned back in Cameron’s office chair – me sleeping in that room – and placed my notebook up against the palette, resting it on one of my folded-over legs, and wrote the Pages there. Just like that. Which I did the next two Missouri mornings as well. And all the San Diego mornings since I’ve been back too. In the small, blue recliner, in my small San Diego room.

Old rooster – new tricks.