I think of the Bly poem "Call and Answer," though this poem came out of the recent anti-war movement, but that methodical call and response, the way art can become a communal experience as opposed to this silent experience. Writing is a solitary act. Being a writer is so lonely sometimes. Being any kind of artist is, though it doesn't have to be.
For now, there are no rules. We're just feeling it out, trying to see where it will take us.
For now, it's about us: three, though right now just two. My mother and myself. And Chelsea, when her life isn't battling her quite so fiercely with chaos. You're welcome to stop by.
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