I don't remember which tortured soul said this, but someone told the world that artists create their best when they're in pain.This past week, I lost a dear pet water turtle who had been with me since she was a mere quarter-size hatchling in 1988. She went to college with me, stayed with me through a ridiculous marriage, moved across a country with me, and was that constant shelled companion through more than three decades of life.
There's a hole in my world now.
And I've been writing poetry like a FIEND since I discovered Tuesday morning that she'd passed during the night.
I'd rather not have this kind of motivation but I recognize what it is.
And I share this space with any other writers/poets who have experienced grief writing...