Imperfect and Beautiful, AKA, What I'm Taking Into October
I'm revising again. I seem to revise a lot, which is fine -- it's one of the most useful, beautiful, and unpracticed parts of writing, in my opinion. I also seem to write about revising a lot, which is also okay. September was a full month that included travel myself plus visitors here, plus celebration of love and family. Also: the need for (shudder) mousetraps, plus an empty well. It was not a "perfect" month, not that I know what that really is. It held moments I wanted to embrace, others I wanted to sustain, and still others that I was happy to release. Now I turn my attention to revising a project that's been close to my heart for a long time. Being me, I want it to be imperfect. It will not be. So I'm looking around. Down and up. And I'm finding beauty -- and imperfection, even IN imperfection -- everywhere. Like this. golden birch leaves, sporting holes and generally appearing crumpled, lie on the dirt A reddened leaf curls un-picturesquely; behi