If only the Scrabble board were a little bit bigger. The blank I had to use for H in “Home” spills off the left side of the board, and the whole thing is a sham since the originating word (“Love”) doesn’t fall across the center star of the board. But there’s something strangely satisfying today about playing lawlessly with words on a Scrabble board. It’s outside the lines Scrabble with myself.
If you move “Harmony” to the N in “Nurture” and imagine more H, V, and R tiles than actually come with the board, this would be somewhere around a 206 point board.
Some of these words are real to me… a part of my moment to moment conversation with myself. Some are more aspirational… a practice.
One (“Receive”) is so unfamiliar to me that I had to double-check its spelling.
Sara Lobkovich Newsletter
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