Paying Close Attention. . .


At the Nueva Posada Writers’ Group Reading today: (Click photos to enlarge.)

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About lifelessons

My blog, which started out to be about overcoming grief, quickly grew into a blog about celebrating life. I post daily: poems, photographs, essays or stories. I've lived in countries all around the globe but have finally come to rest in Mexico, where I've lived since 2001. My books may be found on Amazon in Kindle and print format, my art in local Ajijic galleries. Hope to see you at my blog.

6 thoughts on “Paying Close Attention. . .

  1. Sam

    GREAT PHOTOS and so interesting,, Would I feel “out of place” there~? I don’t much ask questions, because I feel that a person knows what they are doing ,
    but I may interrupt otherwise.


      1. Sam

        Not all such groups are as happy and attentive as this one definitely looks to be, you folks are so lucky~! I attended a group in San Antonio for a while, but found that I was just not the right person for them. I disappointed them in several ways~!

        First, it was a long way to attend by-weekly meetings. Second there were about three in the group who were battling to be “top of the heap”, which turned it into a negativity word fest. Third I was doing the unheard of sin of trying to, rhyme, make a statement, and balance my stupid drivel. (Actually you may have noticed that I find it difficult to even talk without doing this, so I must have been a terrible disappointment to them.)

        So I finally felt that I must not be cut out for this particular group, and was the square peg in a round hole, so I just stopped going~! They seemed to enjoy what they were attempting to do, but their inner fighting was a real turn off.

        For while longer I kept up with their online minutes, while they still were trying to find out who would be TOP person. (Poet laureate San Antonio~?)

        They finally dissolved, or rather tore their selves apart. Sometimes it may be difficult to know which one in a full room is the one that has stepped into dog poop. I just did not want to be pointed at. I wonder if some of those excellent poets have formed another “more congenial group” under another name and are now doing what they must really enjoy ~!



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