I'm noticing how, when you honor your varied interests, you start seeing connections everywhere.
I gathered my manuscript and quickly began shuffling it into two stacks of paper: Mother, Mother, Mother; bird refuge, refuge, refuge. I grabbed the pile that had to do with Mother, tucked my nightgown into my Levi's, pulled on my cowboy boots, and tore down the canyon. I drove to the nearest Kinko's and handed half of my book to the young woman behind the counter.
'Would you mind printing this on the brightest paper possible?'
'It will be difficult to read,' she said.
...Once home with my turquoise stack, I reshuffled the manuscript, putting the pages back in order. Where there was too much blue, I realized it was too intense. Too much white, too many birds. My task was to create a light blue manuscript that gracefully wove together two parallel stories into one coherent book.
-When Women Were Birds: Fifty-Four Variations on Voice by Terry Tempest Williams