My husband is a great partner. I never really worry about what his mission is on a given day. I know whatever it is will go toward enhancing our quality of life in some way, whether large or small. Awwww, right? He’s not bad to look at either.
He has many talents but is not an accomplished literary writer. He has come to enjoy a lot of different types of writing, partly through the vast array of offerings at Orion headless (my second child). He has limited experience with writing poetry (my first love). However, when we occasionally do have a spontaneous shared impulse it’s fun to put pen to paper sequentially, and eke out whatever exquisite corpse decides to grace us with its laughable presence.
It’s most fun when we have our writer friend and neighbor Ryun Horn over for a cocktail. The results are an alchemical reaction that foments into frothy layers of giggly foam. Such silliness is just one way I’ve opened my eyes to the impulsive joy that playing well with others can create. Here’s an example of the shenanigans. See footnote below for translation.*
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