Vermont

December 28, 2009

Ted and I are leaving Monday night, taking a red-eye to Boston. We’ll be there for New Year’s and then on the 3rd of January I go to Vermont– the Vermont Studio Center– for a month writing residency in January 2010 (yipes–just a week away).

I’m going to try to do a few blogs while i’m there to document it but we’ll see. I really want to focus on my work. If I don’t do it while i’m there I’ll post when I get back.

I’m excited, nervous (there’s that whole “who will I sit with at dinner?” “will they like me?” fear in me; like the first day of school), thrilled, scared, worried about being away so long, worried about my cat, Hermia, who is 18.5 years old, anticipating missing Ted and Jack and Betsy, but also really really energized about my book and all that I want to add to it. Especially after the amazing Tom Spanbauer workshop a couple of months ago, and then the new ideas and feedback i’ve gotten on the chapters so far. I’ve never had an opportunity like this, to go away and work on my writing–free of any other obligations–with a place to stay and meals and other creative people to mingle with.

In addition to 15 writers of all walks of life, VSC accepts 40 visual artists each month in painting, sculpture, new and mixed-media, drawing, printmaking, and photography. I found out yesterday that I know one of the poets who will be there for two of the weeks i’m there, Kimberly Dark–hooray! She and I read together this past summer in Balboa Park, San Diego. And, i’ve been googling other people who are going to be there–wowza there are some incredible artists.

I’m putting together a box that i’m sending out there tomorrow– books for my research, old Photoplay magazines, notecards, tacks, Vitamin C drops, notebook, journal, John Cheever’s journals, should I bring a dictionary? Nah, i’ll have internet–for better or worse, my exercise ball, a new tiny lamp that Ted gave me for Christmas, what else? what else?

Ah well. I’m sure I’ll have everything I need– and especially: Time.

“Vermont‘s a place where barns come painted / Red as a strong man’s heart, Where stout carts and stout boys in freckles, Are highest forms of art.”