Before Bic PensI've been writing so long in my life, I remember when Bic pens were a new twist on the refillable ballpoint pens. In fact, I remember refillable fountain pens. From chalk to pencil, Bic to typewriter (with ribbons) , I have used all of these to write. When I was 12 years old, I was writing poetry and novels. I had to use a flashlight under my bedcovers to do this so as not to disturb my sisters I shared a bedroom with.
I've been published, as a poet, under my own publishing company called "Smiling Cat Press". Got some national attention.
I kept a series of diaries from the time I was 12 until, at 45, I decided to have "The Great Burning".
An historic moment in self-immolation, taking hours of preparatory shredding for the ceremony, I was relieved of thousands of pages of my life in words. My best friend, my dearest friend, had a fireplace, and we did this together.
And yet, I didn't stop keeping a running journal after that. Or writing stories, or poetry.
With very few exceptions, I simply tore them out of my notebooks and threw them away.
Are you familiar with the sand paintings Buddhist monks do? Elaborate and time-consuming mandalas made of fine colored sand, once completed, are prayed over and then literally blown away.
A lesson in impermanence.
Which brings me to EP.
Oddly, if I understand it right, data on the internet is archived. If I understand it right, even if I delete something here, it is still accessible somehow.
Is this true?
If so, this is the most wide-reaching and fire-proof medium I can express myself in verbally.