While the writing retreat is officially over, I am still in writing mode. It doesn’t look like it as I putter around my apartment trying to put it back in order after the flood that forced me to pull everything out of all of my closets. I’m not a neat freak, but the chaos caused by having boxes and suitcases and shoes and furniture in the middle of my apartment is maddening. While I put things away and spend time watching the peonies I bought the other day bloom one at a time, I know I’m still working. The pages I wrote are floating around in my head, and I know when I look at them this week, I’ll be able to see them differently and, hopefully, more clearly.
I must say it was a lovely week, but I was right when I noted that the peace of the week was coming to an end. By the time I finished what turned out to be my last writing session on Thursday, the sidewalks and shops were filled with a different species—rotund men in plaid shorts and windbreakers talking about their boats, thin women (all of whom looked so hungry) already looking bored with the “season,” and the shop owners whose fiscal well being depends on catering to their every whim.
When Karen and I walked into the restaurant for dinner our last evening I wondered in passing whether or not shouting “Obama!” would have the same result as yelling “Fire!” in a crowded theater. These are the people afraid of “class wars” and having to pay taxes and, after about five minutes, they all look alike. Seriously.
So while I was sad to leave Sadie and Karen, I was glad to wake up at the crack of dawn and head back home. I left early (5:22 am) and got to enjoy a quiet Newport. It really is a lovely town, and, in addition to getting good writing done, I found the time I was there very soothing. There is something about feeling good pressure to write all day every single day that allows other things to fade and heal. Walking along Thames Street in the morning and then again in the afternoon and then again in the evening was good for me. I’m not sure how it was good for me, but I’m sure that in a few weeks I’ll really be able to feel it.
I noticed a lot of things about myself. For example, with my new hair cut, my shadow looks exactly like a bobblehead. Deep stuff, man…