Tuesday, August 4, 2015

First Night in a New Place...

means a lousy night's sleep for me. I've been aware of this since I traveled down to Florida with my aunt, uncle and cousins to visit another cousin. I've found I often have a sense of dread arriving at a new place after dark.

This time, I only had the problem sleeping. I got up at six, despite feeling exhausted. I sat on my private porch and wrote in my journal. I had opened all the windows last night and it was cool in the morning.

It is warmer now as I sit on the porch and write this post. The ceiling fan helps. Unfortunately, I'm seeing glare on my monitor and a reflection of myself, which is distracting. It's hard to use my mouse and see my cursor.

Oh the humanity.

I've been thinking about the difference between writing on paper and on a monitor. The monitor is more practical, more forgiving about misspellings and other errors. I suppose there is something more elemental in using paper and pen. At some point, I'll head outside with a notebook and see what develops. It was at Mercy Center about 25 years ago at I embraced my poetry.

I arrived with a writing plan of sorts. Since my blogging has been so sporadic--okay absent--for most of July, I will write at least one post each day. I will also work on a piece I'm calling "The Last Retreat," a fictionalized account of my retreat with Darlene last year. I wrote an entry when I was there, but couldn't post it: Internet troubles--one of the many annoyances of that location.

This year will be better.

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