"Zina would go out on an adventure every day...."

Outside ran an amazing piece last week by Grayson Schaffer on the life and tragic early death (from a hiking accident) of the amazing artist/creator Zina Lahr. I don't know how you can watch this and not fall in love with this girl--she was really something special and the world is a sadder place without her in it.

I've been thinking about the struggle to embrace a creative life for the past few days. I made hotel reservations for the Association of Writers & Writing Programs conference in Seattle and it's been hard not to feel selfish about that. This is a total indulgence; it's meeting up with friends, attending panels on subjects that interest me and talking about writing for hours and hours. I'm not getting paid for this and it has been hammered into my life forever that writing is a hobby unless you are paid for it.

I started hearing that when I was 12 and it hasn't left my brain since. (My husband does not feel this way at all and totally supports my trip.)

The funny thing is, I likely will make contacts at AWP, it's the nature of these conferences after all. And I am attending specific panels that I think will help me with my writing. So technically, this actually is work-related. But still, I can't silence those powerfully critical that echo in my head; the ones from so long ago and the ones that still occasionally are uttered around me. I just need to watch this video enough times I think, chant "Zina Lahr" over and over again, reflect on all that she accomplished and attempted, and perhaps finally the guilt will evaporate.

She was really someone special, wasn't she?