My nostalgia for the places we have lived rewrites an often troubled past. How can I gently pry myself away from these rosy memories and anchor myself in the present?
Jennifer, this is a terrific essay. Wonderful prose and nuance.
I'm less well-travelled than you but my experience has been similar, trying to come to terms with different countries and the vagaries of city versus village life. Although it doesn't always work for me, sometimes what helps keep me present and anchored in the moment seems to revolve around food and food preparation, according to how it's circumscribed by local circumstance.
And, before typing this, I noticed the comment below, and it made me think of my writer friend Jesse Lee Kercheval. Maybe you've crossed paths with her? Sometimes it's a small world. In any event, after dedicating most of her adult life to writing prose and poetry, she found herself in Uruguay during the first Covid lockdowns, wondering what to do next, so she took up pencils and pads and began trying to draw, which she hadn't tried since she was a kid. Now, it seems, she can't stop. Here are a couple of readily available samples: https://fourthgenre.org/multimedia/body-is-a-vessel/ &
I have found that artistic pursuits totally unrelated to my writing life can be very satisfying ways to live in the moment. I first took up drawing at the City Lit. in London because I though it would be a way to spend time thinking about the book I was writing without the obligation to answer the phone or do something more physical. Not so. Drawing - really trying to draw well - took my total concentration. Hours passed without my thinking about anything else.
Eventually, my dissatisfaction with my limited skills and lack of progress led me to give up drawing. In 1975 I tried my hand at throwing pots on the wheel and I have never looked back. I've been going to art school in Richmond once a week since then. I'm surrounded by a generous and quietly companionable group of fellow potters. Once in a while I make a breakthrough and my skills are steadily improving - to the point that I have joined a studio and will be able to work on ceramics 20 hours a week. That activity requires intense concentration yet somehow frees my mind to think creatively. I highly recommend taking up a creative activity that - while it requires focused attention - does not demand the same kind of concentration that writing does.
Dearest Ferne, I think this is absolutely brilliant advice. I have been thinking about drawing actually. I can't draw at all, so perhaps I would experience the same frustrations you eventually did. But I definitely need to find a different artistic pursuit to stretch me, to use my mind and hands in a new way. I live in a village of artists, so I hope that someone will be able to lead me to a drawing class. I am so glad you have found inspiration in ceramics; it sounds like a rewarding practice. Thank you for sharing this! (By the way, we have been streaming plays from Richmond's Orangetree Theatre - just saw Uncle Vanya last night. I wonder if you are often in Richmond if you've ever been to this theatre? The productions are impressive!)
I actually haven't been to the Orange Tree theatre in years - though the path to the school from the station goes between the theatre and the pub next door - which is now a very classy pub with rooms. I usually leave Richmond covered in clay and totally shattered after a day at the wheel. But I will be looking more closely at the theatre now. I'm actually looking ahead to what I view as a true ordeal, the Harry Potter show "Harry Potter and the Cursèd Child" at the end of the month. It's about six hours of theatre with a two hour dinner break in the middle. My whole immediate family is coming over for a visit -all five of them - and my two nieces are still mad for Harry Potter (as they are both nearing 40, one would think they would know better). I'm hoping my various old lady parts can cope with sitting in the theatre for two 3-hour stretches back to back.
I saw that show! Both parts. Once in NYC and once in London, both times with my daughter, a huge fan. I found that I enjoyed it tremendously, especially for the ingenious staging. I enjoy a bit of magic now and then! I don't think you'll be bored!
hope you are right.
Jennifer, this is a terrific essay. Wonderful prose and nuance.
I'm less well-travelled than you but my experience has been similar, trying to come to terms with different countries and the vagaries of city versus village life. Although it doesn't always work for me, sometimes what helps keep me present and anchored in the moment seems to revolve around food and food preparation, according to how it's circumscribed by local circumstance.
And, before typing this, I noticed the comment below, and it made me think of my writer friend Jesse Lee Kercheval. Maybe you've crossed paths with her? Sometimes it's a small world. In any event, after dedicating most of her adult life to writing prose and poetry, she found herself in Uruguay during the first Covid lockdowns, wondering what to do next, so she took up pencils and pads and began trying to draw, which she hadn't tried since she was a kid. Now, it seems, she can't stop. Here are a couple of readily available samples: https://fourthgenre.org/multimedia/body-is-a-vessel/ &
https://imagejournal.org/article/breasts/
Wow, I love her work! It's so compelling. I don't know her, but she sounds fascinating! Is she still in Uruguay? I always so appreciate your comments.
Glad you liked it. Jesse Lee taught at UW Madison for many years and she still has a home base there, but she spends a lot of time in Uruguay.
I have found that artistic pursuits totally unrelated to my writing life can be very satisfying ways to live in the moment. I first took up drawing at the City Lit. in London because I though it would be a way to spend time thinking about the book I was writing without the obligation to answer the phone or do something more physical. Not so. Drawing - really trying to draw well - took my total concentration. Hours passed without my thinking about anything else.
Eventually, my dissatisfaction with my limited skills and lack of progress led me to give up drawing. In 1975 I tried my hand at throwing pots on the wheel and I have never looked back. I've been going to art school in Richmond once a week since then. I'm surrounded by a generous and quietly companionable group of fellow potters. Once in a while I make a breakthrough and my skills are steadily improving - to the point that I have joined a studio and will be able to work on ceramics 20 hours a week. That activity requires intense concentration yet somehow frees my mind to think creatively. I highly recommend taking up a creative activity that - while it requires focused attention - does not demand the same kind of concentration that writing does.
Dearest Ferne, I think this is absolutely brilliant advice. I have been thinking about drawing actually. I can't draw at all, so perhaps I would experience the same frustrations you eventually did. But I definitely need to find a different artistic pursuit to stretch me, to use my mind and hands in a new way. I live in a village of artists, so I hope that someone will be able to lead me to a drawing class. I am so glad you have found inspiration in ceramics; it sounds like a rewarding practice. Thank you for sharing this! (By the way, we have been streaming plays from Richmond's Orangetree Theatre - just saw Uncle Vanya last night. I wonder if you are often in Richmond if you've ever been to this theatre? The productions are impressive!)
I actually haven't been to the Orange Tree theatre in years - though the path to the school from the station goes between the theatre and the pub next door - which is now a very classy pub with rooms. I usually leave Richmond covered in clay and totally shattered after a day at the wheel. But I will be looking more closely at the theatre now. I'm actually looking ahead to what I view as a true ordeal, the Harry Potter show "Harry Potter and the Cursèd Child" at the end of the month. It's about six hours of theatre with a two hour dinner break in the middle. My whole immediate family is coming over for a visit -all five of them - and my two nieces are still mad for Harry Potter (as they are both nearing 40, one would think they would know better). I'm hoping my various old lady parts can cope with sitting in the theatre for two 3-hour stretches back to back.
I saw that show! Both parts. Once in NYC and once in London, both times with my daughter, a huge fan. I found that I enjoyed it tremendously, especially for the ingenious staging. I enjoy a bit of magic now and then! I don't think you'll be bored!