Where have I been? Most recently I have been in New Mexico feeding my inner artist. She is expensive, my inner artist. She likes to go to expensive writing retreats and stay in nice Air B&Bs. She likes good food and good coffee even if it is decaf. Decaf is due to my crazy bad heart burn. Samantha Irby is my spirit guide. Why you ask? we seem to have many of the same issues, gut wise that is. We deal with the same middle age BS, like having to carry around a small arsenal of medications and a CPAP machine. Come to think of it I am not entirely sure if I am still considered “Middle Aged” If I ever meet Samantha Irby we would probably not talk about writing we would probably compare the relative merits of Depends vs Elite Fit disposable underwear. I recently spent a few tense moments cursing Americans for not installing bidets in their bathrooms. A bidet would have saved me from washing my underwear out in a very classy powder room and having to sneak out of said powder room with my hastily cleaned undies wrapped in an equally classy guest towel. But I digress.
I am writing this from my favorite pub at Third Place Books in Seattle. I had to escape my condo because most of the laundry from my trip is on the floor of my bedroom waiting for its turn in the washing machine. I love having a washing machine and a drying machine in my unit I just don’t like the folding and putting away of the clothes. In fact “Away” is quite full and I have run out now places to stash things.
Upon returning home with the above mentioned dirty clothes I discovered that I had accidentally started a subscription for toilet paper to be delivered to my home. My 600 square foot condo. I have no space for that kind of thing. I was already a case ahead.
What did I learn on my writing retreat? I learned that my instincts are good. I know what is good and when to share it. What I need to do is sit my ass in chair and write. That may sound obvious but generations of writers have had to learn that truth over and over again. One of my first writing teachers told me that I have a good ear. So I have that going for me he actually said “You don’t have a tin ear.” I’m not sue if it was a real honest to God compliment, but I took it as one.
The trouble with. writing in a pub is that there is a group of loud ass men pretending to be entertaining. It’s a common problem in public places. men tend to fill up all available space both physically and verbally.
When last I wrote I was preaching the gospel of not letting Trump hijack my mental health. I failed. I let happen. After the election I didn’t get out of bed for a week. After the inauguration I didn’t get off the sofa for weeks. At least I got my act together enough to go to New Mexico and sit in the retreat and listen to
Ann Randolph teach and work her magic. And she is magic. She would likely argue that she has no magic she just sits in her chair and writes. She is also a performer and a teacher extraordinaire. Her workshops are worth every penny.
I don’t regret the money I spent on the retreat and I don’t regret the side trip from Santa Fe to Taos where I met with the locals and browsed wares made by the local natives and tourist shops as well. I resisted the urge to buy a painting for several reasons. I toured the pueblo of Taos and did not get my real questions answered. My real question was about plumbing. I know that back in the day they did not have modern plumbing. As a person who always needs to know where the nearest toilet is I was curious. One day I will find the courage to ask.
For now I leave you with the promise that my mental health is not going to be hijacked again. I plan on participating in next Saturdays protest. I will continue to call my representatives in congress and write letters. I will not be donating to the causes that send out daily “Hair on fire” emails that are sent daily, they are forever asking for money and with the stock market being manipulated as it is my retirement account is shrinking daily and social security constantly being threatened I do need to watch my cash. Taking the bus to the protest on Saturday instead of an Uber. Stopping by my local coop and picking up a few things to get me through the week. Until next time.
Hang in there folks.
What a wonderful adventure!