Preface to SPARE

Loss was a primary propeller, which kicked up old loves in the dust.  Through writing I framed the ache—the pain of losing my beloved, then surfaced my brother, my father, mother, his brothers and my two best friends.  In this landslide of loss I found memories and emotions swirling around my body.  When I recall all of this the icon of corpse pose warrants a click.

I wrote in spits and spurts.  Poems woke me up in the night.  They spoke in rage and anger and sometimes served as a kiss goodnight.  Descriptors of feelings real and sometimes unattractive began to spell my name.  Victim, hungry, cynic, joker salved the pain.  In between those brutal bruises love continued to peek through. I could not ignore what spilled out of my heart, my hand.  Love is as real as rage and I held them both.  One is easier to hold on its own than the endless juggle.  I walked, got out of bed and held you in my breath.

And so I wrote until the subject weaned itself from me.  The tone changed over time.  With that shift, I knew that this book was complete.  The love I feel for the people who stirred these emotions has not changed and their place is held within me.

I feel grateful for the power of the creative process.  I hope that the awesome transitions that I have experienced through this work will speak to you, the reader, in ways that feel real.