My favorite place to write is Panera. Maybe it's silly but I figured it was an East Coast place so I didn't even bother looking for one last week. It's where I used to go at least twice a week when I moved to Easton, after my year sabbatical out in the country at Teena's 1800's original farmhouse on the Choptank River. Easton was my first place of my own, my only place all my own. I loved it so, my own little sweet kitchen where I used to wile and dance every morning. My own comfy couch and extraordinary windows that let in the best yellow sunshine, the magnolia out the kitchen that I knew like an old friend. I could walk to the best local coffee shop and music venue in the world from that little pad with the light purple bathroom and the bedroom that I turned to my studio with the wall length book shelf. The coffee shop there was my all time favorite, but people like Rudy and KJ or my students showing up at random, just like how it's supposed to happen at the local place, made it hard to get my work done. So Panera out on Route 50 used to feed me, next to its gas fireplace, it kept me caffeinated and with my heart in the work and the work in my head all winter long. These were the days of the earliest drafts of my novel. Imagine my great happiness driving to the strip mall in Newport today only to discover a Panera Bread right next to the Ross.
That's where I am now, hoping a coveted outlet opens so I can sit and get in to chapter four the way I know it needs me to, gnawing at me to gnaw at it. I'll warm-up a minute on this blog here, eat my salad and Vermont-cheddar-mac-n-cheese, get the facebook-spacing out of the way. By this day next week there will be my very own room with a beckoning call, a perfectly fit desk against the front left wall.
There is nothing better in the world than knowing what you love and living it. It keeps me grateful, and my feet eager to be on the ground. It's true what they say anyhow, to thy own self be true...when I'm out there stumbling and adventuring around I always know I'll like what I get to see. It's what happens, because I always remember to bring along me.
Showing posts with label panera. Show all posts
Showing posts with label panera. Show all posts
February 20, 2012
November 10, 2009
Things
Things that relax me:
~the fireplace at Panera, the way the heat feels like a warm gold ball rolling over me like in gym class when we were real young and gave each other massages with the red rubber dodge balls
~jazz, especially Miles and Coletrain; and Old-time, like Count Basie and Billie
~taking a long soak in my own hot bath
~the luxury of a whole hour of morning quiet time now that I am only minutes from work
~hot, homemade soup
~the warm feeling of anticipation that comes from thinking about toasty winter nights with close friends
~the quiet angles of my living room, how simple and appealing, and quiet and right it is
~laughing. a lot. til the muscles of my gut are all crunched up and I have smile wrinkles deep in my face. ("Stardust? Is that you?" "Yes, fair maiden. Lo, I have come from beyond to spread the goodliness of sissyhood...")
Things I forgot about:
~how quickly the grey seeps in to me, the real and dulling effect of how the sudden shrink time of sunlight impacts me
~my certainty of how closely we All are affected by that. I had over half my new students cancel or reschedule on me today. It was so grey today that the color actually seemed to hang on the air like rainforest mist or desert dust.
~what writing does for me. AND HOW HARD it is to force myself in to writing without stopping after I've gone ahead and stopped for a while
Things I'm so grateful for:
~my writing partner, who is all about NaNoWriMo and watching her forge forward and break through her own defenses has made me both so inspired and, at once, given rise to that friendly ol marauder Competition, thereby forcing me to get on my damn game. Which makes me just sooo, soo freakin thankful for Erika and so in awe of how life, after 20 years, circled us back around to each other again. Really, when I get quaked with this much warmth of emotion, I have no words.
~my little apartment. Have I mentioned this lately?
~the unforeseen
~my friends and family. It is November, I am soon to be 9 years clean and sober and the time of month to count thanks is almost here. Amen Amen Amen, there is just so much....
~the fireplace at Panera, the way the heat feels like a warm gold ball rolling over me like in gym class when we were real young and gave each other massages with the red rubber dodge balls
~jazz, especially Miles and Coletrain; and Old-time, like Count Basie and Billie
~taking a long soak in my own hot bath
~the luxury of a whole hour of morning quiet time now that I am only minutes from work
~hot, homemade soup
~the warm feeling of anticipation that comes from thinking about toasty winter nights with close friends
~the quiet angles of my living room, how simple and appealing, and quiet and right it is
~laughing. a lot. til the muscles of my gut are all crunched up and I have smile wrinkles deep in my face. ("Stardust? Is that you?" "Yes, fair maiden. Lo, I have come from beyond to spread the goodliness of sissyhood...")
Things I forgot about:
~how quickly the grey seeps in to me, the real and dulling effect of how the sudden shrink time of sunlight impacts me
~my certainty of how closely we All are affected by that. I had over half my new students cancel or reschedule on me today. It was so grey today that the color actually seemed to hang on the air like rainforest mist or desert dust.
~what writing does for me. AND HOW HARD it is to force myself in to writing without stopping after I've gone ahead and stopped for a while
Things I'm so grateful for:
~my writing partner, who is all about NaNoWriMo and watching her forge forward and break through her own defenses has made me both so inspired and, at once, given rise to that friendly ol marauder Competition, thereby forcing me to get on my damn game. Which makes me just sooo, soo freakin thankful for Erika and so in awe of how life, after 20 years, circled us back around to each other again. Really, when I get quaked with this much warmth of emotion, I have no words.
~my little apartment. Have I mentioned this lately?
~the unforeseen
~my friends and family. It is November, I am soon to be 9 years clean and sober and the time of month to count thanks is almost here. Amen Amen Amen, there is just so much....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)