Getaway to arrive
I'm off to a writers' retreat for the weekend with members of my Master Writers' group.
We're going to our mentor's cabin out in the boonies (that's US slang for in the country, far from the city), hosting a large garden featuring a plethora of flowers and fruits and vegetables and other paraphernalia boasting beauty and great taste.
We're bringing bedding, food, drink, partners, children, dogs and .. writing.
I'm bringing my wee Pomeranian pup JR, who at 5 pounds needs to stick with me as closely as he normally does so the wildlife in the neighborhood doesn't consider him a tasty morsel.
Our group is significant, uncommon and exceptional. There are five members - each a gifted artist with a very different background, personality, goals and writing style. None of us is *anything* alike.
We meet every week, bringing something we've written, created, or a discovery about writing to share with the group for feedback or, more than likely, sheer enjoyment.
Interestingly, it was initially suggested that we invite several more people than just us because informal writers' groups are notorious for their dropout rates.
New people were, in fact, included. But for whatever reason, it seems to come down to us five. And for some reason, inexplicably, we always show up. Maybe it's just a habit, now.
With each meeting, our writing becomes sharper, keener; our artistic voices noticeably unique and increasingly clear.
There is no real "leader." Our original mentor is busy teaching another group at the same time, but he drops in on us at his break since we commandeered an empty room nearby to assemble. We consider ourselves, um, an "extension" self-study course.
One thing about writers. We tend to tell our truth. That's what it's all about for all artists, isn't it? Maybe that's what draws us to our gatherings. To hear what those truths are this week. What we have to share.
Sharing is the nature of the weekend. Sharing our families - whom we'll meet for the first time. Sharing food, fun, frivolity, festivities, fostering good will and creativity, mixed with a sip or two of humanity.
The sky will be clear, stars flickering, a new moon glowing.
Alone time. In The Zone time.
It's already memorable - at least in my mind. I can hardly wait to experience the real deal.
We're going to our mentor's cabin out in the boonies (that's US slang for in the country, far from the city), hosting a large garden featuring a plethora of flowers and fruits and vegetables and other paraphernalia boasting beauty and great taste.
We're bringing bedding, food, drink, partners, children, dogs and .. writing.
I'm bringing my wee Pomeranian pup JR, who at 5 pounds needs to stick with me as closely as he normally does so the wildlife in the neighborhood doesn't consider him a tasty morsel.
Our group is significant, uncommon and exceptional. There are five members - each a gifted artist with a very different background, personality, goals and writing style. None of us is *anything* alike.
We meet every week, bringing something we've written, created, or a discovery about writing to share with the group for feedback or, more than likely, sheer enjoyment.
Interestingly, it was initially suggested that we invite several more people than just us because informal writers' groups are notorious for their dropout rates.
New people were, in fact, included. But for whatever reason, it seems to come down to us five. And for some reason, inexplicably, we always show up. Maybe it's just a habit, now.
With each meeting, our writing becomes sharper, keener; our artistic voices noticeably unique and increasingly clear.
There is no real "leader." Our original mentor is busy teaching another group at the same time, but he drops in on us at his break since we commandeered an empty room nearby to assemble. We consider ourselves, um, an "extension" self-study course.
One thing about writers. We tend to tell our truth. That's what it's all about for all artists, isn't it? Maybe that's what draws us to our gatherings. To hear what those truths are this week. What we have to share.
Sharing is the nature of the weekend. Sharing our families - whom we'll meet for the first time. Sharing food, fun, frivolity, festivities, fostering good will and creativity, mixed with a sip or two of humanity.
The sky will be clear, stars flickering, a new moon glowing.
Alone time. In The Zone time.
It's already memorable - at least in my mind. I can hardly wait to experience the real deal.
Labels: artists, comaradarie, creativity, getaway, rejuvenation, relaxation, rest, retreat, sharing, writer's group, writers
posted by cp @ 12:09 AM
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