“The less I know – the more the world opens up, wide and waiting. This is how I have come to understand the taste of freedom. I am filled with resistance. But still, I am here. One letter on this screen at a time, I am here. Neck aching and back bent and eyes burning, I am here. This is what it means to show up. This is what it means to trust the calling. This is what It means to write.” WritingFreedomTrustWordsResistanceWriteWild HeartJeanette LeblancShow UpI Am Here Author:Jeanette LeBlanc
“Never get too attached to the first draft of anything – this includes writing, art, homes, love. You will revise and revise and revise. We are always in the midst of our own becoming.” LoveWritingArtHomeWisdomLife LessonsWild HeartJeanette LeblancReviseFirst Draft Author:Jeanette LeBlanc
“You alone own your story. Do not let another tell it, and if you find yourself in the company of one determined to rewrite your words or own your narrative, fight like hell until you hold it again. There is little in life that is solely ours. Your story is one of those priceless few things. It is beyond precious. The people meant to be In your life will only strengthen your voice, not take it from you.” WritingVoiceMemoirStorytellingSovereigntyMemoir WritingStorytellersYour StoryTell Your Story Author:Jeanette LeBlanc
“Dear Writer, Sometimes we treat the negative voices in your head - the ones who say we can’t do this writing thing, we’re not as good as so-and-so, nobody will read what we write - as if they are voices that deserve respect. As if they speak from some great authority & know what is true. As if they don’t take our silence as tacit acceptance of their whispers to hammer away at our deepest insecurities. To hell with that. You tell that voice that she’s had her turn, it’s no longer her time. It’s time to shut the hell up & be quiet for once. Life is too short - & your art too precious - to waste it on bullies. Make no mistake, she IS a bully. Ignoring bullies makes them louder, more insistent on getting in your face & shutting you down. No more. Fact. Bullies don’t speak truth from a place of power, but they are really good at convincing us that they do. They actually just hone in on our weaknesses with extraordinary precision and speak lies from a place of false bravado. They expect us not to talk back, gain their power by our acceptance of their words. When we don’t speak they take that as permission to get louder. Not this time. This time you stop & write down what the voice is saying. Then you cross that shit out with the biggest, blackest marker you can find and tell her she needs to listen. This time, you talk back, draw yourself up to the fullness of your power. Root down into the depth of your truth. Coax that flame in your belly until you feel it fire up your whole being. Then you tell her YOUR truth. In writing, so it won’t be forgotten. Tell her she’s wasting time. That you’ve got art to make. That you’re done with her lies & attempts to undermine your power & silence the stories that live inside you. Tell her whatever the hell you want, but do it with all of you. Be willing to go past what you even believe and have your own back this time. Write exactly the words you need to say, which also happen to be exactly the words that you need to hear. And then be done with it. And write. After all, that voice wouldn’t ever be this loud if she didn’t know you had something important to say. So say it, writer. The world is waiting for you.” WritingQuotes About WritingSelf Doubt QuotesQuotes For WritersNegative Self TalkQuotes About ArtQuotes About Writing BooksQuotes About Self DoubtQuotes For ArtistsQuotes For Creatives Author:Jeanette LeBlanc
“If you’re going to love a poet you should know this. Our words are our truths. Our blood hums with verse. We break easily. Our words save us. Our stanzas keep us alive. If we loved you at all, we loved you truly. And you will never leave us but live under our skin and beneath the tips of our fingers and in the ink spill on blank page. Because poetry, like some love, is forever.” LoveWritingStoriesPoetryPoetPoemWordsWild HeartJeanette LeblancTo Love A Poet Author:Jeanette LeBlanc
“I’m mesmerized by lipstick prints on coffee cups. By the lines of lips against white pottery. By the color chosen by the woman who sat and sipped and lived life. By the mark she leaves behind. Some people read tea leaves and others can tell your future through the lines on your palm. I think I’d like to read lipstick marks on coffee mugs. To learn how to differentiate yearning from satiation. To know the curve of a deep-rooted joy or the line of bottomless grief. To be able to say, this deep blue red you chose and how firmly you planted your lips, this speaks of love on the horizon. But, darling, you must be sure to stand in your own truth. That barely-there nude that circles the entire rim? You are exploding into lightness and possibilities beyond what you currently know. The way the gloss only shows when the light hits it and the coffee has sloshed all over the saucer? people need to take the time to see you whole but my god, you’re glorious and messy and wonderful and free. The deep purple bruise almost etched in a single spot and most of the cup left unconsumed? Oh love. Let me hold the depth of your ache. It is true. He’s not coming back. I know you already know this, but do you also know this is not the end? Love. This is not the end. I imagine that I can know entire stories by these marks on discarded mugs. Imagine that I know something intimate and true of the woman who left them. That I could take those mugs home one day and an entire novel worth of characters would pour out, just like that.” WritingAttentionCoffeeStorytellingObservationLipstickCoffee ShopObserver Author:Jeanette LeBlanc
“Truth? Sometimes I question every last thing I’m doing. Truth? Right now, those questions swirl every damn day. Is this also true for you? Still, we keep moving forward, you and I. We try new things. We doggedly keep on doing the old things because though they may not have worked in the past it doesn’t feel like crazy to continue, it feels like the space of trusting some wild sort of knowing. We love, good and hard. We show up for life. In the midst of depression, insanely messy houses, and bank accounts sliding closer and closer to that fine red line, and panic attacks, and kids who won’t listen but who damn well know how to question and love. And we make stuff. My god, the way we keep on making stuff. Because we can and we have to. Because it’s the only damn thing that feels right when everything else feels a hundred kinds of wrong. We create. Defiant and determined and true. Weary hearts brought to blazing life if only for those wild moments we dance with the muse.” WritingArtArtistCreativityDepressionMental HealthWritersWriting CommunityMake ArtWorking Artists Author:Jeanette LeBlanc
“Some books, some authors, open up doors of possibility for me as a writer. They break down what I know of form and composition and the rules of telling true stories and reassemble them into something novel and unfamiliar before handing them back to me to say “here, you can also do it like this”.” WritingWritersWriters On WritingWriting QuotesWriters On Writing LifeWriters On Writing Books Author:Jeanette LeBlanc