Posted by: M.C. | 4 September 2010

“Just” Writing

It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be flawless. It doesn’t have to be the best thing anyone will ever do; it doesn’t have to be the best thing I’ve ever done. It doesn’t have to glitter and gleam and immediately knock the socks off of anyone who sees it. It doesn’t have to please everyone; it doesn’t have to please anyone. It doesn’t have to be smooth; it doesn’t have to be finished. It doesn’t even have to be good. It only has to be what it is, where it is, when it is, which is here, now: what I see as my eyes move around the room, what I hear when I still myself and listen. Which is: my son running around the apartment in his diaper and t-shirt, refusing to lie still so that his mother can change his diaper, denying that his diaper needs changing (even as we can watch the swell in front and at the rear), laughing as she holds and teases and tickles him. It only needs to be this; just this.

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