Lesley Residency 2.5
I had moments of clarity last night and this morning, when I felt as though I had everything about this week figured out. I knew how I was going to get certain things accomplished. I knew that somehow my life as a writer was going to work out. Everything was better. I even had confidence that my car repairs wouldn’t amount to much. Then, I realized I’d lost Stephanie’s cell phone and every ounce of positivity in my body was replaced by that all too familiar feeling of negative energy.
Stef drove me into town so I could get to my early workshop and on the way I bitched about the despair of the writer, how you need to work in order to support the craft but if you just gave up the craft you wouldn’t need to work to support it but if you weren’t working you’d have time to spend on the craft. I bitched about a lot of other things too and she listened. She’s a saint in that way.
Workshop went well. We reviewed two stories and then did some writing exercises. Lunch was pleasant, if not entirely wholesome. I think I had pizza and blueberry pie for the fifth time this week. After lunch we had an excellent seminar on Vision and Revision. We looked at multiple revisions of Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art” and it was really interesting.
There was some time between the seminar and dinner so Jill, Sara, Shera and I walked to Central Square and had some coffee and hot chocolate. I had a hot chocolate with caramel and hazelnut and whipped cream. They called it something I can’t remember. It was good.
I can’t say the same for the reading tonight, though. I was pretty unimpressed by the poetry and visual art that was presented together by two artists whose names I can’t remember. I think part of it was general tiredness and part of it was lack of interest.
Since I’d lost the cellphone I had no way in which to figure out if my car was done. Therefore, I had no way to arrange for payment or maybe for my parents to pick it up for me. This grated on me all day and it grated on Stef too when she had to come into Somerville this evening to pick me up. We argued a lot in the car. That wasn’t pretty. I’m a pretty unhappy guy. All those moments of clarity I was having — they’re long gone now.