Conferencing from Home This Time Hopefully With Improved Eye Sight

 This is the week that AWP opens in Seattle. The Annual Writers Pilgrimage to whatever Mecca is selected for that year.  Seattle it is. 

This is also the week I have eye surgery on my right eye. That happens Tuesday the 8th. As a result, my AWP will be virtual this year. This is disappointing because I know many poets and writers in the Pacific Northwest.  And, I've never been to Seattle. I get many excellent views of the area's natural beauty in pictures, but that only makes me want to see it more. 

I did make the Portland AWP so many of those people were there and then some make the event every year so those people you can count on looking up. 

I will miss the conference. I will miss the people, the sights, the book bargains, and I will miss the swag. Hopefully, I will be able to get to soak up some of the knowledge and benefit my craft virtually, 

Did I say I will miss the swag? Crazy buttons, promotional material from presses, and lit journals. Who knows what brilliant ideas people will have this year. There are always some oldies but goodies that you will see each year that have been done specifically for AWP 23 One of my favorite from the past was the do not disturb door hanger with cute writing-related quotes on it, like go away I'm writing my fucking memoir.  Oh wait, that was a sticker, but still. And various temporary tattoos.

If you have never been to one of these let me tell you, they are:

• Engagingly fun
• Highly rejuvenating of ideas and commitmentRemarkable at stimulating new ideas and reestablishing work desire
• A mammoth networking opportunity
• Significantly draining  - but if you are counting steps, oh boy, what a win
• Invaluable contacts with publishers and editors
• Exposure to thousands of books
• Did I say draining?  It is physically draining for sure. If you are on the introverted side, the crowd can be especially overwhelming as well. Take a break if you need to. There are seats everywhere. Skip a presentation if you need to some are recorded. I've been to four or five of them, losing count, but they are worth it. I usually take the day after I come back off just to get my head and body working together again.

If this is your first conference or even your 23rd (kudos, I don't know anyone who has been to all of them).  Drop me a note or add a comment and share your experience Anyway, best wishes to all going. Be safe and have a great conference.  Next year is Kansas City, my town.

#AWP23

Confession Tuesday - Joy and Sadness Issue

 Dear Reader:

Let's hurry to the confessional... 

It's been one submission, a whole week of Grind Poems (if you don't know what this is, just ask), One bad eye (right), a fair amount of squinting, A SuperBowl win for Kansas City, two new ink colors in my fountain pen, Another episode of Shrinks, a day with both joy and sadness, one journal bits post on my web site, one load of Laundry, and one week since my last Tuesday Confession. 

Reader, I confess that I could not make it through the week without a second blog post as I stated last Tuesday that I would try and start doing.  In my defense, I did add a post to my Poet's Notes on my website which is kind of a blog. I know, that's a lame effort to get off the hook.

I confess also that I am religiously using Combigan on my eyes and that I believe it makes some difference one day and not so much the next.  Dr. Appt is coming up on the 20th. 

I confess enjoy the Apple TV series Shrinks. Seeing Harrison Ford act again is good. Both his age and health are showing through. 

It's 6:30 PM and I confess this day has gone from euphoric joy to deep sadness. After this, the remainder of my even plans will likely be scuttled in exchange for going to bed. I'm not tired, and I don't expect to sleep - I just don't have the desire to face anything else tonight. 

I confess I need to write about 5 new poems with some emphasis on night for my manuscript.  I was going to talk with someone about this today for maybe some new angles for them. 

I confess I will not be going to the Super Bowl parade tomorrow. That many people downtown drinking and likely seven sheets to the wind when they arrive sure looks to me like a recipe for disaster.

I'm not kidding when I say that I believe the manuscript will be ready to pass it out to a few people to look it over soon. I confess I really see this happening. Probably no later than the end of April. 

I'm afraid I'm at the end of the line for this post.  Let me say that I wish you all the best in the week ahead, and be especially safe.  Life is precious. Everyone's. 

All best!

Michael

Confession Tuesday-- Introverts edition

Dear Reader:

It's been one rejection letter, three episodes of Shrinking on Apple TV,  another week writing poems for the Grind ( if you don't know what that is just ask me), Numerous excruciating starts to new poems, 7 days worth feeling in the grip of darkness, and One week since my last Confession.

Let me start dear reader by saying that I am troubled.  Do you know what singularity is?  No, not that one. Singularity has to do with AI. As in artificial intelligence. Singularity is when parity is achieved between humans and AI.  For some, this is an outstanding achievement. We've made a new life form that replicates what humans can do. 

It can write your thesis. Draft a court brief, create art, write music, etc. Of course, to do this tons of data has to be fed into the system so for example, it can duplicate brush strokes, or know the general parameters needed to prepare a given legal document. 

In the example of art, for instance, there is a class-action suit already against a company that has an AI art generator. It has collected samples over the years of a couple of artists, Suddenly, it offered a subscription in which you could use the site to access their AI feature and create artwork. Suddenly, all of the pieces of the artwork uploaded on the site were making them money, but not the artists whose work they used. They get nadda. Nothing. Zilch.

I confess that I find this very disturbing. And what about people turning in college work done by AI?  I see the ethical and economic pitfalls of this as frightening.  But I will just leave this here for now. 

Writers are solitary people. Many are introverts. Many of us will write for example "dark poetry" and people, often friends will ask why do you do that?  It comes. with the territory. It's not that I don't write anything uplifting or joyous, it is just sometimes we are lost in a web of darkness in our life. I'm trying to work my way through one such week or more. It's not. that I don't try to write pieces that are not dark, it is more like I am just not really feeling good about the positive stuff that comes out during such periods. 

I ran across the quote pictured above this week and I have to confess it seemed to strike a chord with me. Loneliness to the point, your shadow has left you in the dark. It's not a good place to be. for very long. Even if you are an introvert.

Speaking of introverts, I saw an article today that while it has been a long-held belief that businesses prefer to hire extroverts, there is a growing trend by many businesses to take a second look at what introverts bring to the workplace. The thought process of introverts is different from extroverts. For one thing, Introverts have thicker gray matter in the frontal lobe. There appears more brain activity in this area. Introverts can often stay in pursuit of a solution to a problem more than extroverts.  It's an interesting nuance between the two.

Color my mind this week as that of curiosity. 

I hope everyone has a joyous week and will see you soon. I promise I will be writing more on here again. My goal is twice a week. 

Very best to you all -

Michael 

Confession Tuesday Loneliness Edition

It’s Confession Tuesday – hurry, I’m off to the confessional. 

Dear Reader, it’s been… it’s been. Oh. crap I don’t know how long since my last Tuesday Confession.

Writing is said to be a rather solitary activity. It is true and sometimes that presents itself as an act of deprivation… a self-denial of social interaction for some periods of time. I confess it can lead to the loneliness that sometimes creeps up on you and you feel overcome by it all at once. I suppose it is a bit like the frog in the pan of water on the stove that you slowly keep turning up until it is too late.

Today has been like a lot of days lately. I realize that expectations aren’t anything but expectations. Or if they are anything else, then they are often preludes to disappointments. I confess that I had expectations and I confess I was disappointed.

It should come as no surprise that I would experience disappointment. I’m a writer after all. It goes with the territory. If you can’t take rejection, then you are in the wrong business. I confess that I expect that in my writing, but not so much outside of it.

I confess I’ve had a string of days that were difficult and have left me feeling low.

Have been experiencing some eye issues in my right eye. Need to get in to see the eye doctor and see how bad it is and what can be done. The problem is mostly that it is blurry and makes reading frustrating and that takes me back to the days before I had cataract surgery. I must confess that this has been both worrisome and frustrating.

I confess that my birthday writing pen is a joy to write with. Smooth and well-balanced. Lightweight, and I love the color.

My iPhone case is looking pretty raggedy, and I need a new one. At some point, it will happen. I’m particular, I like this case and it was really good for some time. I confess to liking the Apple cases – the white silicone.

In the I feel so stupid Department:  I confess I have downloaded a writing program and have tinkered with it now for a few days now, and honestly, there are parts of it I don't get. Some of the drop-down menus do nothing. I can't put anything on the calendar. Color me stupid. 

I have tried to stay off Google as best I can because it has so many articles on Elon Musk. I confess I believe he is Trump’s twin. I feel he is arrogant, and narcissistic to be fair. For all the talk about his wealth, he has some of the worst public business image issues.  I also am so tired of seeing all his coverage on social media. Tons of it rolling in.

I hope that your day was a good one and the remainder of your week as well. Until next time be safe and write or read lots.

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

January - Birthday - Fountain Pen

Pictured to the left is my new pen, MaJohn 800. It's lightweight with good balance and especially comfortable for long writing stints. I love the physical appearance as well. A sort of orange and black marbled color. This beauty was a birthday gift from my daughter, Cathy Ann.

Perfect for journaling, and handwritten poetry drafts. I still do that from time to time till I take a draft to the laptop. 

Finished reading Deathbed Sext by Christopher Salerno, 2020, Two Sylvia's Press.  This was a winner of TSP Chapbook competition. There are some remarkable lines in this poetry. It is rich with dissonance (something I love) throughout the book.  Personally, I felt its strength was in individual poems and not so much as a cohesive manuscript, but that was just my opinion. 

Great P & W Issues Is Out

 For untold years I have looked to Poets and Writers Magazine as a central source of poetry/writing-related craft information. 

The most recent has an excellent section on inspiration with lots of great suggestions. It also has the annual debut poets' article that examines some of this year's breakout poets with new books. 

I recommend P&W in general, but this issue is great. 

December 25th - Universal Thoughts

                                                                              

We can look upward and see space, such as it is. Seemingly endless. Certainly, it continues beyond our naked eye, or even so, the distance from which man has been able to extend his current technological and scientific exploration beyond. 

The vastness can boggle our minds as we consider the magnitude of what is unknown to man. People will sometimes say, "How do you know there is a God?" I say look at that vastness and tell me there is not. Tell me this whole universe is some accident. 

The thing about writers is, we tend to be observant and we are all curious people. Which either is a result of our observations or vice-versa. You cannot be a writer and not ask questions. Even if only within our own heads, we are constantly contemplating different slants or views of things. 

I realize there are some famous writers that deny the existence of God beyond a man-made creation, But if so, how did man create God before our own existence? Explain our mere existence outside of the realm of God's creation. 

I did not intend this to be a great debate about the existence of God, but an observation that to me supports that we live in a marvelously wonderful universe, notwithstanding the significant level of abuse man has manifested upon our own planet.

No matter who you raise your voice in prayer to, take a moment (or more) to praise this masterpiece that God has created us and then made us a part of.  Pray that we may be better stewards of our planet. 

Peace to all~

Shalom 

Salaam 

Peace

 

                                                                          

Peace - Hope - Love

 

This season, no matter who you call God

lift up your thoughts and prayers for 

Peace for Love and for Hope. 

We have the ability given us, from on high 

to reach out to others and be the voice of 

the silenced. To offer hope to those in need.

Our commandment to love above all else

is central to the relationship of spirituality

between God and the people of all nations. 

May we war no more. May violence have no 

hold on us. May we understand the meaning 

of being brothers and sisters in this world.

Still Time for 2022 - Submissions

 Submitted 5 poems tonight.  Go little poems. Find homes. 

# Submissions

90% of Writing...

“Writing is 90 percent procrastination: reading magazines, eating cereal out of the box, watching infomercials.”—Paul Rudnick

The Light, The Dark, And The Inbetween

Sometimes it is hard to remember that our lives revolve around darkness and light.  We can sometimes feel darkness overtaking us, even in the light of day. 

Poets are often accused of living in a dark persona and there are many who spend a fair amount of time in the darker realm. But not all poets do, and if they do, it is not always an ongoing condition. 

I do think poets can actually tend to be melancholy or downright depressed at times.  Today, I am experiencing a darker side, myself. Also a loss of optimism. These things happen and I find it best to monitor them because it is important not to take up residence for too long in your day-to-day life. 

Currently, I am feeling pessimistic, as well as down. It would be nice to salvage some joy from this day. I'm open to a better disposition, but I am wrangled up in anxiety, and concern for another person. These are things that I do not really have control over, but they are significant and they are real

The extremes of light and darkness have a catchment area in between in which shades of grayscale can occupy. 

I'm trying not to be too overwhelmed by all this, and there is a chance it could dissipate overnight, Or I could awake to it worse in the morning. 

#light #dark #poetmoods  Mode presently: worried, sad, anxious, alone

 

CONFESSION TUESDAY - 50th CLASS REUNION SOUTHWEST HIGH - KC, MO

Well friends, another Confession Tuesday.  This one covers my 50th High School Reunion. Friday, Saturday and Sunday classmates from the 1972 Southwest High School gathered and celebrated the high 50.

I had not attended any of my other reunions and there is a story or two behind that, but that is for another day.  Admittedly, I was a bit nervous coming into this whole thing.  On the right, I am joined in this photo with Paula Lyon. Paula was another band member in our class.  Paula was busy Friday night at Charlie Hoopers sticking name tags on us as we showed up to kick off the weekend. A big thank you to her for making me feel at home and like this was maybe going to be okay after all. Robin Scott was another who made me feel right at home and wanted to know if I was going to be at the next day's event.

Southwest High in those days was the premier public High School in the School District. Our School was located on Wornall Rd. just south of the 63rd & Brookside area.

Rival Schools referred to us as the "Cake Eaters"

Below right are a couple of the many. students that worked hard to make this event memorable and enjoyable.

Above was a memorial table for all the students that are no longer with us. Sadly that number is presently 67.  They are 

missed but not forgotten. 

To the right, I am in a selfie with Elizabeth Wall.  This was definitely the biggest surprise and will be the most memorable part of the Reunion.  At one point Elizabeth (who told me she had been asking around if anyone knew if I was there and someone pointed out where I was.  She came and pulled up a chair next to me and said, "I don't know if you remember me, but we dated in High School" The answer was - Of Course!  I recounted where the apartment was that she lived in, etc. We talked a bit longer about mostly what I had been up to, and it was quite loud and I wish before we parted I had asked about what was going on in her life. 

I confess, I often have wondered how many if even any classmates ever think about me and wonder what has happened to me over the years.  Elizabeth answered that at least one had,  I did acknowledge wondering about her from time to time. 

Here are a couple more shots. 

I have posted a lot more on Facebook in a SW High Class of 72 group.

The food was good, Music was awesome, (Those were some pretty good years for music.)

There were quite a few that did not age much or at least aged very well. 

It was amazing the number of attendees that were band and orchestra members.  I don't believe I saw that many jocks from the class. I'm not sure what that says, but admittedly we did have a large band and orchestra. 

I must confess it was something I will forever be happy that I attended. Wish I had been at others, but this one definitely rocked. 
 

Some Days This Seems Ridiculously True

"The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast."  ~Oscar Wilde

Confession Tuesday: Where Has August Gone Edition

 

Dear Reader / Friend or both...

It's Tuesday night and it has been 28 days, One Truman Gala, On 35th Legislative Dist. Organizational Meeting, One full Democratic Committee Meeting, a 9the Election To The Democratic Committee, several rejection letters, 27 new poem drafts, 3 gas tank fill-ups (I think), and untold days of frustration since my last Confession.

I have gone from sceptical that the Democrats can hold onto the Senate in the fall elections to feeling relatively optimistic that we can gain 2 to 3 seats. I confess this is based on my general assessment of a variety of polls and not just wishful thinking.

I confess that I am at a loss for understanding how impotent the Republican Party has become so quickly in this country. 

I confess that I have fallen off my schedule of working on my poetry manuscript. It is perhaps a combination of coming out of the Primary elections and starting back to school.

I am taking two classes this semester. I confess one is really interesting, the other I could teach. with both hands tied behind my back.

I confess that I have absolutely no idea where August has gone to.

I confess that Madison, my long-haired Dachshund had probably the best day of his life and I missed it. I am told he found a snake in the back yard and it became his favourite toy. Having missed it personally, I feel kind of like being told you weren't home and missed your son or daughter's first steps.

Mood Tonight: a mixture of #sadness, #frustration and #empathy 

Salman Rushdie Attack

 The attack on Salman Rushdie this week is both sad and Ironic. 

Salma Rushdie was in New York to discuss the plight of writers and journalists who face dangerous conditions because of their work.  Before appearance for a lecture where the author was viciously attacked by a man welding a knife, Rushdie had exchanged emails with PEN America concerning the need to provide a safe haven for Ukrainian Writers. 

Confession Tuesday Aug 2 - A Win and an A Edition.

Dear Reader: 

Hurry, come with me to the confessional, let's get this done. 

Reader:  It has been two weeks since my last confession. Today is Missouri's Primary election, and I confess that I feel really weird. I'm running for reelection on the Democratic Committee. This will be my 9th term. It is also. the only time I have run unopposed.  That feels really strange. I am used to campaigning hard each time, so I don't quite know how to deal with this emotionally (insert laugh here).  I'm not complaining of course. I've often wanted to run unopposed, it just feels strange. 

It's hot here today. I mean really hot, but that's not really unusual this time of summer. I have stood at the polls all day long in 101 to 104 degrees temperatures many days. My prayers go out for all those at the polls - voters and volunteers today, but also anyone compromised by heat. The homeless, those without air conditioning and those without fans. I confess that these people are in my thoughts and I pray they have some relief from the dangerous temperatures. 

The school semester is over. I confess that I am pleased to report the one class I took for the summer session I received an A in. That's what I wanted, so I'm elated. For those who were supportive of me going back to school, thank you, thank you. 

The past week I've been up and down emotionally. This has been pretty par for the course lately. There are things that stress me and I try to deal with them as best I can. I confess I'm learning to manage this better, but it continues to be challenging 

Once again I am doing the Grind. A new poem or rewrite each day for a  month.  I've been doing this now for going on 14 months. I recommend this if you need to do lots of new work and want to get lots of writing practice. I confess it has been worth it to me. 

That's it for tonight, I will settle in to watch some election returns and write. 

Until next time,  be safe!  And if you can't write a poem, be a poem. 

 

Confession Tuesday July 19, 2022

Dear Readers: 

It has been six days since my last confession.   Hurry along to the confessional and let's get started. 

Reader-- 

I confess this has been a hard week. It's been a week with a lot of demands and I have tried to remain true to them. From school and school work to writing, to try to help another, but alas I have realized I am not magical or all-powerful. I am human and I have had limited success. Further, I am disappointed in my overall results. This is a self-disappointment, plain and simple. 

Tonight, I listen to the news and am admittedly. angry.  The Secret Service says they deleted text messages on Jan 5 and 6, 2021.  This is only the most significant two days in recent American history.  Plus their story has changed over and over.  All agents working those two days need to sit and testify under oath before the Jan 6 Committee. 

I'm happy to say that it seems my month of Grind poems has been going better this month. I confess it should be automatic by now. 

There are at least one, maybe two poetry books coming out that I must have. They need to be worked into my anaemic budget.

Yes, raising my hand, I confess I am eating Sweet Cherry Peppers....  for dinner?  Maybe. 

Let me leave you with these words by Yeats... "For the saint and the poet alike... make excess even more excessive."

Stay safe, and read daily...

 

Journaling Series #3 "Journal Bits"

 To continue my series on journaling I wanted to give you a bit of a flavor for things a writer might journal about. This of course could be an exhaustive topic, but I am going to provide you with just a small example of what a normal day of journaling might be like.

Of course, if I were working on a special project I might want to focus on that, but this will be an example of just a random day...

I Will Call This Journal Bits

• Random words coming to my mind today in no order of importance... colonial, fixture, orgasm, penance, toxicology, embrace, melon, placard, and widget.  (I have no idea what these say about me, perhaps you can tell me)  Note: any or all could appear in my writing over the next few days.
• My day has been busy with school work and I am proud to say that I have stayed on schedule.
• Random Thoughts - Sylvia Plath has as many issues with her mother, as she did with her father.  💥  When I think of T.S. Eliot, I automatically think of him as old before I even think of how extraordinary he was as a poet. 💥  I think of the dash "-" each time I think of Emily Dickinson. 
• There are things that could happen to make this day better. I'm just saying.
• Is there an Acceptance Letter around the corner? Yes? No? Maybe so? 
• Quote from a book... "I am a natural, free-ranging milk-fed girl.   SO wholesome." Arielle Greenberg, I Live In The Country & other dirty poems. Four Way Books. 2020
• Donald Hall, journaling...  "Reading Ruth Stone's poems, wonderful with that ending zag which is unpredictable, exact, repeated, yet it never becomes mannered."
• From the Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath:  "Everything is the same but different." Paradox again. Two mutually exclusive and contradictory adjectives are applied to the same universe. And this phrase is again a unique insight into the repetitious and varied universe man has woken up in and begun to work transforming into something he can call his own. We are all men but as different as we are similar - as opposite as we are alike.
• AND This: Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman STILL  has blood on his hands.  Sandis have a horrendous record on human rights. Especially for Women. 

Confession Tuesday on Wednesday

Dear Reader:

I confess that I am late. This would not be the first time you have heard this from me and I'm sure it won't be the last.  Last night when I arrived home from class, I had to finish my Grind poem and a couple other essential obligations and the clock just would not let me do this, so here I am tonight.

I confess I will lead off with good news tonight.  Ada Limón was named our new Poet Laureate of the United States.  A very deserving choice. I had the occasion the meet Ada once at a reading in Lawrence, Kansas. One of my favorite poems of her's at the time was Sharks in the River.  Not one of her best pieces but a fun one never less.   Her 2015 book Bright Dead Things seemed to be a turning point in her work and I knew that there would be bright days ahead for her and her poetry.

Ada deserves this, but what's more, America will be enriched by a greater awareness of her poetry. 

Today was a rough day at the office and I admit I am tired. But here I am confessing to you that life after work goes on. 

I am also happy to report that I am feeling happier than not about school. It is a big change to my evenings, but I feel so far that I've been doing what I need to and that is a good feeling.

I confess I am ready any day now for an acceptance letter or two or three. Come on, I'm overdue. 

I am a little disappointed in my Giants. They have gone through a rough patch. Mid-season and they need to turn themselves around. 

My Essay on Plato is due in two weeks. It's coming along. I may take a break from it tonight. 

I confess I believe in miracles. 

My overall mood today is best described as tired and reserved.  Not a bad mood but could improve. I'm not complaining, just hoping for some good news.

Until next time, stay safe, and may happiness find you. 

Confession Tuesday 7-05-22

Dear Reader:

It has been 13 days since my last confession. I have a lot to make up for, so follow me to the Confessional, please. 

If it's Tuesday it should be class night. Instead of class, I had a conference with my professor. Not a conference like I did something bad, but I'm sure somewhere along the line I have, but a conference to go over my big project of the semester. My last essay. 

I arrived slightly early as I confess I was nervous and sort of felt lost. Not. in the building pictured above right, there is not that much to get lost in there. No, I was lost in what I was doing there.  Yes, I had a vague idea. I was supposed to go over where I was at on the project. He asked me to refresh his mind on what I was doing in general terms. 

Plato - in his view can one be happy in life without eros?  In general, Plato seems to rank beauty and love very high in his order of life. I'm certain that Plato would not like one to speak in general terms, nor does he like sensibility. The ladder seems to defy making any sense. 

I won't write the essay here, I hope to only do it once, but my professor was almost giddy over the things I brought up, both in observations of Plato and Socrates and some of the questions I will raise concerning the application of Plato's theories in today's world.

I walked out of the classroom feeling. happy that I was apparently on the right track. 

So, the building above is the Liberal Arts building on the Longview Campus. I confess that my mind got the best of me and was thinking if I were going to Liberty University back in Virginia, would my class be in the Conservative Arts building instead.  The University was I believe founded by the late Jerry Falwell, which should tell you a lot about it.  (insert laugh here)

I confess today was a bag of mixed goods. There were some good things about my day and some things that were just so-so. A little in the feeling down mode, but overall, it was a decent day I guess. 

I confess I am extremely tired of shootings. More people are growing angry at the gun violence in this nation. They are not shy above their anger either. The problem is accelerating. More guns in the community are not the answer. It's like throwing gas on a fire. 

I confess that I have been trying to practice calm more often. I'm getting better at it, not perfect but with some prompting, I have made headway. 

I confess that I am so happy for Silas that he got his cone off this weekend.  Poor baby is recovering from a torn ACL. 

Still cranking out poetry submissions. Still waiting for some journals I really want in. I confess is have a list of them I keep in my head. 

That's it for today's confession  - Until next time - be safe and enjoy life. 

 

Journaling series - post #2

 In my first post, I talked about  Lochby journals.  This is my newest baby - The Pocket Journal in - Blue.  I selected this with a gift card for father's day and different from the regular field journal in size and capacity.

Obviously much smaller, it will accommodate only two refills at a time. The Dot Matrics, Ruled, and Unruled paper is available. They do not make a calender for this size.

WHAT DO I USE MY JOURNALS FOR?

The larger one shown here is my calendar and my journal and writing catch-all. 

That includes:

• quotes I want to remember
• notes about school assignments
• notes related to work
• daily journaling
• thoughts that come to me and may find their way into my poems
• drafts that I am working on before I take them to my laptop

That is what my larger journal is for.  The smaller one is in an experimental stage presently.

I think it will get carried around a lot and will be used for ideas or catchphrases I want to be able to recall.  Things that later may find their way into my writing, 

What I am sharing with you is how I operate. There is no right or wrong way to use these tools.  Just as there is no right or wrong way to approach journaling.  But that is part #3,

and you will have to come back for that post.