I am settled down in DC for the week, putting together a little video in celebration of National Poetry Month, working away on the nonfiction book (more on that in my latest She Writes "Countdown to Publication" post, here) and watching the rain fall.
March is a month of birthdays for me, and according to a quick skim of the astrological charts, the pairings of Aries and we Taurus types--my birthday is May 5--tends to be predicated on "strong determination, honesty, and passion for life." That seems like a fair and fairly flattering statement. Also bonding us: games. Whether Trivial Pursuit, Spades, or Chess, the men around me are always game-lovers.
On Saturday I headed down to Charlottesville for my friend Dave's birthday (where we played Kings, complete with a prep round of Irish Car Bombs). On the long stretch down 29 I thought about small(er) town life. I miss CVille sometimes, and not just because of Bodo's Bagels, though that is a significant factor. I miss impromptu trips up to Skyline Drive. I miss the restaurants and shops of the Downtown Mall. Someday I'd like a house where I can invite a big group of friends over, without wondering where they will sit.
On a bus ride to New York City for the Poets & Writers Birthday Gala, I sat next to a woman coming from North Carolina. She said she saw more shows--concerts, plays, art exhibits--in Greensboro than she did when she lived in a city. "If there's only one or two big things coming through each month," she said, "you make sure to be there."
Hmmm. You know, I have no idea where I'm going to be a year from now. I love DC, but this is the most portable my life has ever been. Which is another way of saying "rootless." Which is another way of saying, oddly lonely. Even at my busiest. Especially at my busiest.
Speaking of big things going on, this Thursday (April 1) I am hosting Dylan Landis and Joanna Smith Rakoff at the Arts Club of Washington (2017 I Street NW). They will each be reading from their amazing books of debut fiction: Normal People Don't Live Like This and A Fortunate Age. We'll start at 7 PM, with a Q&A and chance to mingle afterwards; if you're around, please join us.
It's time to toast the start of spring, rain and all.
3 comments:
It's funny what you say about loneliness, like you answer your own question in the statement, you are loneliest at your busiest. That's why it's so important to slow down take a deep breath and get out of the city. Even if you can only get out of the city in your head, everyone needs a break. It is too fast, the air is dirty, people are self consumed, it is a false picture of nature. We are meant to live beautiful lives outdoors, walking through streams, watching the sunset from the rim of a mountain range. So many people don't go outside anymore, just listening to the TV drone on for days. They forget to listen to the waves break, and run barefoot along the wet sandy beach. If you don't listen to your heart it is sure to break. Take a trip into the forest and look for a pond or glen or glade. Then you will find there in the shade, the relief from the stress of which you knew your life was never made. It is just good to feel like that sometimes, even if we live such fast paced busy lives. Hope this picture of a little brook brightens your rainy day, and the blogging world of poets look forward to what you have to say. Touché, enjoy your beautiful day.
i did my undergrad work in Greensboro and it is a lovely city.
i know it will be a while but i'm pretty excited about this non-fiction book you are writing :) keep at it!
I know what you mean about feeling rootless. I've lived in 4 states since 2003, and even though I love Massachusetts, and don't want to move anymore, I always feel like I might have to move again. I hope it goes away.
Are you doing NaPoWriMo this year?
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