Tinder in Bali
I was explaining Tinder to Agung, our driver here in Bali.
“It’s this App on your phone,” I told him, “so if you want to meet someone and have a date, you just look here.” I held out my phone to him like it was a genie in a bottle
I lead, they teach
I lead, they teach
This is the line that came to me last week during one of the Wild Writing classes I run.
I have three live, in person, flesh to flesh classes here in Northern California, and four that take place on a video platform, which allows women from across the country to join me at 8am on a weekday morning – all of us in little boxes on the screen just like The Brady Bunch. We can’t make actual eye contact, but we can see each other as we write and read aloud for an hour and a half each week. Given the possible coldness of technology and the occasional glitch where someone gets kicked off their server, it’s a pretty incredible way to do deep this work with people.
For Want of Slow
For Want of Slow is a piece of writing my friend and Wild Writing student, Lori Saltzman wrote in class last week. I asked her if I could share it here.
What I need you to know is
I feel like a temporary survivor of a fatal epidemic
Like walking the set of a horror movie
One of those deadly plague films
where everyone acts as if everything is normal
Suddenly there’s a look in their eye, a subtle change in the tempo of speech
The Duchess of Coolsville
So there we were at the Rickie Lee Jones concert in San Francisco a few months ago – my pal Ann and I. We thought we were going to be late, but it turned out Rickie Lee was even later. Apparently her band’s bus had broken down 8 hours away and had finally chug-a-lugged it into San Francisco…
Totally Connected and Never Feeling Lonelier
“Are you bringing yours?” Steph asked as we set out for our weekly hike around Alameda. “God no,” I said, “I need a break – I’m like a freak.”
“Me too,” she said, throwing her hands in the air, “don’t even ask.”
So we would be champions then. We would muster the strength to simply be together instead of keeping one hopeful ear cocked for the sound of a beep, a buzz, a tweet, even a cricket – some indication that we weren’t alone, that we were part of whatever was going on out there in the world, and ultimately, of course, that we were loved.
How I Spent My Summer Vacation
Remember that essay you had to write the first day back from summer vacation when you were a kid? This is what I hope I can write in a few months when September rolls around:
That some mornings I started the day in my nightgown on the side porch, in a patch of sun…