Breathe. Pay attention and tell the truth. ~ Maxine Hong Kingston

The writer within you has seen it all—the majestic and the senseless and the silence of a star-filled midnight. She stores a landscape of sensory elements—bruised and cobalt skies, mountain trails and waterfalls, a sleeping child, a lover’s skin, an ocean’s shore, a snowfall, a blazing flower bed. In fact, each writer has a storehouse of memories, emotions and sensory data to work from—pink-hued dawns, tender caresses, jokes, funerals, campfires, misunderstandings, classes, mountain streams, break-ups, teachers, childhood friends, and spring flower bouquets.

It’s like exploring an attic and finding an antique trunk filled with treasures and meaning.