Angie Werren and Her Writing Space

where do I write?

I’m not a writer. I’m not a poet. I’m not a photographer. I am none of these things but here, on this page — words. there, behind my closed eyes — a photo of where I am, now. here, in this chair at this table in this little room in this tiny house in ohio. here, where I grab that pad of paper to pin down the words in my head before they fly, before they become just another sentence in just another day.

this is where I write.

here now, in this house. I walk through its yard, watching the ground cover shake with snakes, hop with crickets. here — where the sun hides, where crows fly from maple tree to abandoned roof and chastise me. here — where the dog eats another apple, where cicada song crashes in saltwater waves, where my grown children come home to play:

this is where I write.

I’m not a writer. I’m not a poet. I’m not a photographer. I am none of these things but here, on this computer, I will put a word on a photo — on a sound, on a moment. Here on this computer, I will put a number on that word and call it done.

angie werren puts numbers on words and words on photos in a tiny house in ohio. she collects them on a blog called ‘this empty nest’