aren’t you that girl… from australia… ?

This was the fabulous first phrase anyone spoke to me this morning.

I rolled off the couch around eight. I wandered down to the Starbucks on Steinway in Astoria; a spot that I took a liking to when I was working last summer. It’s where I did most of the Poetry: Volume One edits. Considering I missed the back cover last time… I should probably find a new place to edit Volume Two.

Never the less…

I approach the coffee bench with all of my gear in tow, notebooks, iPad, various plugs, ink, etc.

“Small black coffee, please.”

“You haven’t been here awhile, right?”

“Right! Seven months, how have you been?”

“Good! How about you?”

“Really good thanks!”

“Aren’t you that girl… from Australia?”

“Yes! Kind of…”

New York City makes my brain work better. I literally do not remember the last time when I was writing the way that I am at the moment. New ideas are crocheting olds one together. Stories seem to be sliding amongst the walls of where ever I go, weaving through the trees of all the parks I roam.

I might go to another spoken word event tonight. There are stacks more people I adore who I am still on a mission to catch… so I’ll have to start with seeing where that leads.

Writing all the way…

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