I thought I would take a moment to check in from sunny Chino, CA. We are thick in the throes of our 9-week (longest ever) winter training season, traipsing all over the state of California like gypsies, tramps and thieves — veritable wastewater vigilantes — our rental car packed to the bursting point with suitcases, backpacks, boxes, books, coolers, poodles, and a whole lot of other miscellaneous space-taker-uppers, as we continue our quest to transform California’s wastewater treatment plant operators to scientifically educated water quality professionals. Well, Eric does the actual transforming, in true wastewater Svengali fashion. He’s the Pied Piper. Follow him. I just keep everyone up to their eyeballs in coffee and snacks.
We’ve already been to Sacramento, San Jose, San Diego, Chino, Fountain Valley, San Jose again for two weeks, now back down to Chino, next week Fountain Valley again, and finally circling back to Sacramento. Anybody dizzy yet? It’s more exciting than a Disneyland ride.
While here, I have finished up my grad school applications, and so far, I’ve been accepted to two programs, and waiting to hear from the third — and after all the cards are on the table, I get to perform that most dreaded of tasks: MAKING A DECISION. And for the simple reason that MAKING A DECISION is so utterly terrifying for me, I’ve decided to throw one more iron into the fire. Just to mix it up. Just to drive myself right to the edge if insanity.
And here it is: Eric keeps a book called Tiny Houses on our coffee table, and one day not long before we left for California he was thumbing through it just for fun, when he stumbled upon the exact plans for my little writer cabin. And it doesn’t look all that difficult to construct. The same lightbulb went off in both of our heads (this tends to happen to us a lot) — a writers retreat! We’ll build eight or ten tiny houses similar to my cabin on the 9-acre parcel in our woods designated as “the education zone” by the Vermont Land Trust. Each cabin will be equipped with fridge, hot plate, sink, toilet, comfy bed and lots of windows. We’ll also build a lodge on another two acres nearby that are designated for anything we want. The lodge will feature four bedrooms and a great room gathering spot for meals, workshops, talks by visiting authors, readings and social hours. I’ll offer qi gong and tai chi classes in the mornings for whomever wishes to attend. We’ll gather around a campfire in the evenings to talk about books and literature and the meaning (or lack thereof) of life. What it’s all about, Alfie. You know, all the existential stuff writers never get tired of thinking, talking and writing about. Or maybe we’ll just sit around and crack corny jokes while Eric strums his guitar. It’s all so exciting I could scream, and maybe when we get back to the Clearing in three weeks, I’ll do just that.
The retreat feels like destiny, like my purpose, my raison d’être. The question is whether to do the MFA and the retreat, or concentrate all my energies on the retreat. I could do both, of course, but as we rapidly approach Medicare-age, we tend to weigh a bit more closely how to spend our remaining time on the planet. Granted the time left could be anything from the next two nanoseconds to maybe 30-some-odd years — for the sake of optimism let’s go with the latter. (There’s a local Vermonter in his 90s who is still running a playhouse he founded in 1979. And another who just celebrated his 100th birthday and still chops wood and makes maple syrup. I choose one of those incarnations.)
Whether I decide to MFA or not to MFA, the writer retreat/artist colony — under whatever name this dream is eventually christened — is going to happen. I know because the Clearing is a very special place. I know because the former owners, Bob and Mary, changed lives at the Clearing with their retreats for troubled youth, and their wish is for the Clearing to keep changing lives. I know because my husband has a way of making things happen, of making dreamlands come true.
We will build it. They will come. 🙂
Love these ideas. I admire you two for your can-do attitude and wealth of energy. Such retreats during Vermont springs, summers, and autumns would revive ones spirit of creativity. One experience in Vermont during a long ago autumn left me with an indelible memory. Years ago I took a bike trip offered by a company called Vermont Bicycle Tours. We rode for about a week in northeastern Vermont during the early days of October. In fact our journey began at a cozy little inn called the October Inn. One sunny, quintessential autumn day I struggling to reach the crest of a hill on my hybrid bike. Upon reaching the summit of this hill, I dismounted from my bike, pushed it into the forrest filled with marvelous fall color. I lay down among the fallen leaves, breathed deeply, and just relished the moment. I had reached Nirvana. I shall always remember that experience. I wish you two much success in your projects.
Keith, thank you for this memory and your encouragement. Can’t wait for you and Mira to visit.
I’ll be there! Will you hire a therapist to assist with the terror of writer’s block? A massage therapist to relieve the stress of creating utter crap? Obviously wine and maple syrup will be plentiful! That’s enough for me.
Therapist and massage therapist coming right up!
Omg!!! I love that you are going to do this! It does seem like your destiny! 💖🦋💖🦋💖🦋💖🦋🌈
Thank you, Roo!!
Actually, my pressing question is, do you know the way, to San Jose?
Sounds like those gears in your brain are working overtime – and enjoying doing so. If you are asking for opinions, I would suggest you listen to R. Frost, and take the path less traveled (a lot of writers pursue an MFA in creative writing) and instead create your writer’s community. You already have writing talent, a BA, and a lifetime of learned experiences. The visiting writers and artists you draw in, would expose you to new ideas and talents, and right in your own backyard, which would offer you inspiration and growth to create your own work, and you can always take a writer’s seminar or weekend retreat somewhere. Best of all would be this: designing, building, and running this on your VT property would be a joint project for you AND Eric (and the poodle-boys, of course)! More formal schooling would be an individual pursuit – the writer’s community would be a joint venture. (Doing both would be just crazy! But more power to you if you decide that’s what you want to do.) I would think you two would be leaning towards projects you can do together. Non of us are getting any younger! LOL
And as far as a name goes, I think you already have the perfect one in THE CLEARING. Keep the positive vibe of that special place. Nurture it. Let it grow and blossom.
Don’t worry Patti. You’ll make the best decision. 😃👍
Thank you so much for this thoughtful comment, Connie. There is a huge part of me that sees it just this way. In fact, my former advisor at Goddard said the same exact thing: “You would be creating your own writer’s community right in your backyard.”
The path less traveled. I love that.
Patti— this is so exciting. I can’t wait for it. I loved your property when I visited last autumn, it is so quiet and peaceful. I could see myself truly being able to separate from the world and just write there. 🙂 keep me updated!
I will definitely keep you posted, Shannon! It would be so wonderful if you came to a retreat!
Just curious. Would the MFA programs be close enough to home, or would personal travel take you away from your boys? Also, how would it affect the work you do on the waste water teaching program? Especially when Eric travels to CA and other parts of the country?
It would be low residency like Goddard. I would only have to be on campus about ten days at the beginning of each semester. The rest of the work is done remotely with your advisor. You email packets of critical and creative work every three weeks, or thereabouts. So, it can be doable to do both, but I would be really busy.
My BFA didn’t interfere with our training biz, but it was a little more challenging to produce work while traveling.