Wisps are small pieces of language that float through before they settle — or sometimes instead of settling. They can be inward thoughts, quiet observations, playful questions, or moments charged with feeling. A line. A fragment. A noticing. A posture we’re trying on. Wisps are not finished work and don’t require explanation. They’re what drifts through while we’re living — the bits that catch our attention before we decide what to do with them. You might share: - An internal Wisp — something from your inner weather - An observational Wisp — a moment you noticed and couldn’t shake - A conversational Wisp — a question or thought that made you smile - Or another kind we haven’t named yet - Sometimes Wisps become poems, essays, stories, or songs. Perhaps we’ll find collaborators who help smooth a rough edge or bring an idea to the surface — that’s what community is for. I’m a bit of a graphics gal — but please don’t think you need images if that’s not your thing. Words are enough. Toss them out. That’s what we’re here for. I just enjoy making things look inviting. Words land differently for each of us, shaped by our stories and back stories. I don’t worry about story theft when it comes to Wisps. They’re barely ideas — and if someone else runs with one and turns it into something new, well… that’s alchemy, baby.

Okay, my creativity is bursting into some other outlets than writing this week. @Jezabelle Jackson and I recorded our first podcast. At first we thought Monday night would open into a group setting, but I think we’ll keep the Podcast and the Community Gathering separate. We can gather for conversation, quiet writing together, or what have you. I’m thinking Saturday morning coffee chat? Sunday? Middle of the night for us night owls? What would work for you?

A quick update as we find our footing. We’re keeping the Monday podcast just as it is for now. It’s brand new, and we want to let it be a podcast and grow naturally. We’ll also hold Zoom gatherings for anyone who wants to meet live. That part will evolve naturally as people join, talk, and show up. No rush. We’ll let the shape reveal itself. Right now, we are a brand new thing, and that’s actually pretty wonderful. I’m simplifying the space a bit, so for now we’re keeping one main conversation room. If you’re new, the About page has a link that explains how Skool works and how to connect here. For context, I’m part of a few other communities too — photography for fun, podcasting, social media. One of them has a 30-day video-a-day challenge on Instagram. I’m doing that. And I’m writing every day. I haven’t quite felt ready to share my writing here yet, and I’ve been thinking about why. In other groups, I’ve had comments moderated for talking about the inner creative process — they wanted technical, what’s working, what’s not. Here, I want something different. I’d love this to be a place to talk about the everyday writing life — good days, low-energy days, brains on fire, doldrums. Not success or fame. Just the landscape writers live in. That’s the kind of space I'm hoping for here. We’ll shape it together, through conversation. Photo by Andréas BRUN on Unsplash

I’ve been thinking about inner voices lately — not in a serious way, just in the noticing way that happens when life quiets down enough for you to hear yourself again. I’m pretty sure most of us have a few. The brave one - "Here I come to save the day!" The critic. The tired one. The child who interrupts without checking the facts. Since my work world stress dropped to nil, mine has gotten louder. And funnier. The other day I left the house wearing my indoor slippers. As I walked toward the car, my inner child voice squealed, “Oh my gosh! I left the house in my zipper pajamas!” Which made grown me — mom me, grandma me — do a quick scan. No. Definitely not. I don’t even own zipper pajamas. She just grabbed the wrong words in the right rhythm, and I started laughing out loud. I’m curious what your inner voice sounds like these days. Photo by Senjuti Kundu on Unsplash

Is anyone else here a Hamilton fan? There are so many moments in the show about writing your way out of messes — frustrations, tight spots, trying to figure things out when there isn’t a clear path forward. I’ve always loved that about him. And yes, I have absolutely gone hoarse singing along to the soundtrack in the car on long drives. By myself. Oh yes I have.