“What an astonishing thing a book is. It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.”
I had run into the statement above by Carl Sagan a while ago, and saved it on my laptop inside my “Pending” files. Pending deliberations. Pending writings. Pending contemplations. And so on. My many posts on my blog site are proof enough – as you would agree, how fond I am of citing quotes from famous individuals. Or better yet, of making sense of my life’s various aspects with the help of those with wisdom to whose voiced experiences I end up connecting on various existential levels. Sagan’s enthusiastic manifestation of love for writing and reading had absolutely no chance escaping my attention. So, here it comes to you in the hope that we will infinitely succeed in “working magic.”
[Left: My writing spot in the night]
[Below Left: Finton’s Landing B&B – view from the gazebo]
[Below Right: Finton’s Landing B&B – View from the porch
[Left Bottom: My writing spot in the morning and early afternoon – before the sun finds me]
I am on a weekend vacation at the gorgeous Finton’s Landing B&B at Keuka Lake, NY with the amazing host and hostess, Doug and Ariana. I am being spoiled with the spectacular lake view from my room, the porch, and the gazebo (practically flush with the lake waves). The personality-rich establishment is a sight you must see to appreciate it. The moment I opened my room’s door to leave, an enticing aroma led me directly to where the table was set: on the porch. Accompanied – special order, I’m sure – by a clear sky, adorned by the sun (do I see the same sun at home?) My first three-course breakfast was another delight: all local ingredients – fresh, of course – masterfully prepared by Ariana and served by Doug with elegance and patience (all guests sat, talked and laughed long and hard for close to two hours) along with his refined sense of humor. With remarkable guests who made me feel as if I were a part of the crowd. Dear Dorothy and David had already shared their loveliness with me yesterday, while they were enjoying their time over red wine together – on rocking chairs. They not only didn’t mind me being around but also invited me to their corner. Time had passed without letting me know (what do I do with my time elsewhere?)
While every one went on to their programs of bicycling around the lake (I prefer to sit and watch it…as a highly challenged outdoors’ person that I am), wine tasting, and other whole-day activities, I am enjoying my solo reservation of the gazebo. Listening to the waves calling me in to the immensely clear water with decorative (!) stones on the bottom, I am staying put perched on one of the Adirondack loungers with my laptop warming me more than the sun. Well, not all of us can be hiking and biking, right? I sure can’t. After this post, I will be back to my creative writing and don’t intend to move, unless a tide takes over the lake, or my stomach sends me red alert. I miss greeting you from my old spot but know that I will get back there rejuvenated to welcome your visit once again. As always before, I very much look forward to you dropping by next Sunday.
Peace in love.
“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.” – Ernest Hemingway.
Acute concerns and chronic ills are in the way of my writing today.
The only time I was close to being drunk was in my very early twenties, among my parents, next to my fiance. It was a lovely summer evening in Ankara, Turkey, where I finished schooling as he had. He and I were enjoying our corner in the balcony of my parents’ living room over a cup of wine. I remember becoming overly “happy” – for which there is a different term, I know. What I could have possibly seen as problems back then, had left room for much laughter, most, originating from within me, not at a joke or teasing. I could use that innocent joy today, for days to come, for that matter. Don’t get me wrong: There is a wonderful factor outside me that makes me very happy, in fact. I only mean for myself, once I close the door to my home, leaving myself behind any and all aspects of the outside world (minus the e-connections). New realizations today make me long for a sense of being sedated. Hence, the reason as to why the following quote has gotten its place here right now. Thank you, Ray Bradbury! Thank you, dear reader, for listening!
You must stay drunk on writing
so reality cannot destroy you.
From: Zen in the Art of Writing
Often you must turn your stylus to erase, if you hope to write anything worth a second reading. – From: Satires