Seeking Marfa, Texas

I subscribe to a service from an online literary magazine called The Rumpus from which I receive periodic letters from established writers. The last one was from a poet named Gabrielle Calvocoressi, who was on a writing retreat in Marfa, Texas at the time she was composing her letter. (the letters are photocopied and mailed out en masse, but the readers are encouraged to write back to the author) She made the town of Marfa and the surrounding area sound so lovely and peaceful. (especially the stars) She writes, “…Just let this landscape work you. Just open up.” I can imagine how wonderful it would be to spend a length of time experiencing a place in the natural world, free of white noise and distraction. To be able to open up to the mindfulness that is so necessary for writing.

Our guests left this morning. The sky was gloomy and the air was crispy cold. Our house has exploded with life since last Thursday, so the abrupt emptiness and accompanying quiet is almost too much to bear. I have a long list of things to do, with laundry and cleaning out the refrigerators at the top but I really just want to write. As long as I’m in the house, the siren song of duties will be white noise inside my head, so I’m going out for a much-deserved coffee and an hour of writing time. Someone else can wait on me, even if it’s only a latte.