Eva Moon's Blog, page 2

Growing Feathers

“She almost shook her head no but then asked for a Negroni too. Courage in a glass. What would he do when she told him? If she told him. She could still call it off. No. She was almost thirty-two. If she wasn’t going to die alone, she had to get past this with someone.”

My new short story “Growing Feathers” has been published in the August issue of Etherea Magazine. I hope it takes flight!

Some of you may remember my play of the same name. This is based on that, but it goes deeper into the hopes and fears we all face when we make ourselves vulnerable to others. Corinne is a single girl with a problem. A startling transformation that overtakes her in her most intimate moments has left her feeling doomed to a solitary life. But now she’s met Tom and is ready to take a chance and lay her cards on the table. But Tom may have secrets of his own. Magic brings many gifts, but they’re not always comfortable ones.

If you liked Growing Feathers, read more. Subscribers get free ones!

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Why I hate writing

Don’t get me wrong. Some parts of writing are great. Like the “going to write” part. That’s when the beautiful dreams of stories flutter down like bright birds of paradise to alight on my shoulders and sing of untold wonders. That’s the bomb. I also love the “having written” part. Squarely in “the bomb” territory.

But in between those two… That’s where I want to chuck a bomb at the whole thing.

Imagine you’ve been given a jigsaw puzzle (and that you love a good puzzle). The picture on the cover is gorgeous—teeming with color and variety and vivid detail. It’s going to be so much fun to see it come together! You’ve got a big clean table, a mug of coffee, maybe even a little plate of cheese, crackers, and crisp apple slices. You can’t wait to get started. So you open the box.

The first thing you discover is that it’s not 1000 pieces like it said on the box. It’s 100,000 pieces. It’s going to take forever! You’re tempted to slip it back into the closet and get out a smaller, easier one. But you look at that beautiful picture on the box and nod. Worth it. So you dig in, searching for the edges. How big is it? Do I have it all? But wait. Where is that bit with the red bridge? And what are all these green speckles? After a while, the terrible truth dawns: The puzzle does not match the picture. Oh, it’s got some of the elements. There’s blue sky. Or is that water? There wasn’t any water in the picture. But why is a fish leaping out of the sky?

The thing you thought would be beautiful and fun turns out to be a complete mess. Nothing fits together. You’re sure pieces are missing; you’ll never find them. You take a break—ten minutes to clear your head. When you return four months later, the picture has changed into something else entirely, and the cat has batted a whole section onto the floor.

But you keep at it. In time, the picture starts to emerge. It might take years to finish. It’s not like the one on the box, but it has charms and mysteries that come clear; you start to like this new picture. Or at least not despise it.

It may be years later than you expected going in, but the day comes when you snap in the final piece. Congratulations! You’ve reached that blessed state of “having written.”

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Walking on Earth

Yesterday I finally discovered how far I would walk in one day if nothing external stopped me. Usually there are constraints: companions, schedules, bad weather. But yesterday held none of those. After 35,000 steps (about 13 miles), my feet became a constraint. The sun was setting on the longest day of the year and my heart wanted to walk back to the beach and watch it go down. My feet, however, had had enough. (They won the argument. I took a bath).

Days when walking goes well are the best days. My body feels strong and loose, limitless. In nature, it’s a pure meditation with nothing but the rhythm of my feet and curiosity about what might be around the next bend. I emerge back into my daily life feeling renewed and light.

The past years of pandemic have shrunk the world. I have felt tethered to my house, my desk, my family. This three days on my own has untethered me. It’s not that I don’t want my home or desk or my family. I do. But it’s a lifeline I grasp with a free hand, not a shackle holding me captive.

I will be blogging this trip day by day, as I go. Follow it here, or on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. #EvaMoonRoadTrip

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Three-Day Artist’s Date

Many years ago I did The Artist’s Way – a self-guided program to tap into your creative potential. I found it challenging but transformative in the way I viewed myself as an artist and approached my work. One of the pillars of The Artist’s Way is ”Morning Pages” – a daily transference of the noise in one’s head onto paper. The purpose is not to create (though that can happen) but to clear the decks. Another pillar is the ”Artist’s Date” – a weekly excursion away from normal routine and environs accompanied only by one’s inner artist. The purpose is to ”fill the well” – break out of habitual patterns, find new inspiration. The purpose is not “research” for the next project (though that can happen) but to simply be open without expectations.

So, here we are, just my inner artist and me, on a three-day road trip, being open without expectation. Simply to fill the well.

Leaving my routine behindMet my sister Pam in OlympiaLake SylviaThe Haystack in Cannon Beach, ORWalked on the beach for miles

I will be blogging this trip day by day, as I go. Follow it here, or on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. #EvaMoonRoadTrip

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