The End

I recently published my first edited book,  Labor of Love: A Literary Mama Staff Anthology ,  with  Small Harbor Publishing . It's an anthology of writing from  Literary Mama  staff over the past 20 years. It's a beautiful collection and I am proud of the writers and proud to share the book.  It seems a fitting moment, as I pondered sharing about the book here on the blog, to reflect on my life as a blogger, and acknowledge that it is time to officially end this blog.   I started blogging in about 2007, when my baby was learning to toddle, when I was learning how to be a mother and stepmother, when I was just starting to see my way as a writer. I needed it back then. I craved it. I had a variety of blog iterations--family, art, creativity, writing things I delved into. There's a freedom in blogging, a casualness, an easy familiarity that's lacking (for me anyway) in other kinds of writing. I loved blogging and the words came pouring out.  Over the years since then, some
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Ithaka


by Constantine C.P. Cavafy

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops, the angry Poseidon: 
do not fear them.
You will never find such as these on your path, 
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your body and your spirit.
The Lestrygonians,
the Cyclops and the fierce Poseidon,
you will never encounter
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.

 Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, 
when with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and corals, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.

 Always keep Ithaca in your mind,
to arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all that you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

 Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage. 
Without her you would never have set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.

 And if you find her poor,
Ithaca has not deceived you. Wise as you have become
with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

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