Veronique Darwin

Places to Write

In Inspiration, Thoughts on Writing on December 1, 2015 at 9:30 pm

Outside, when windy. Everything gives up and blows away.

A big desk, for people with job-jobs. Leave your work scattered, like you must return soon.

Frozen nights, paper lit by fire.

Alone, with only ghosts watching you.

In public, naked.

At a coffee shop, a hot chocolate on your face and on your paper, a good song in your ear.

Under a table, writing about people’s shoes and deepest secrets.

Wherever you please, at certain key hours.

Whenever you please, on your favourite chair.

In Mondays and on December.

From your head, the tip of your pen, the nubs of your fingers, the first of your thoughts.

1437874848315

Here! Now!

Tomorrow. Yesterday.

The cabin in the woods or the train in Europe or the garret in Paris or the classroom in college.

In your heart or your lover’s heart or your mother’s heart.

Inside of your head but never on paper.

In a Moleskine notebook your ex-boyfriend bought you at graduation but you never opened because you stopped talking and was he judging you, by buying you only a notebook when he should have really bought you a necklace, something beautiful, something lasting?

Inside a memory, a hard drive.

Or maybe

it’s less about

where you write,

and more about where you leave it

once you do it.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: