I think the deeper you go into questions, the deeper or more interesting the questions get. And I think that’s the job of art.—Andre Dubus III
The Mabel Dodge Luhan House is abuzz with fellow retreaters packing up before our final morning workshop. In a few hours we’ll go our separate ways, tote our writing dreams back home, and I’ll be back in my own bed late tonight.
I’ve been in Taos for the past few days with a group of women writers working on various projects. It’s my second time to this retreat with Jennifer Louden. My first was a decade ago when I taught the yoga portion and was working on the book proposal for Tranquilista. When I saw this retreat pop up late last year, I felt called to carve out this time for my writing.
Although I’ll be processing the experience and takeaways for the next few days, I wanted to share a few highlights:
- a morning walk to see the black cross Georgia O’Keeffe painted
- having tea with a woman I met during my last retreat here
- soaking in a clawfoot tub surrounded by windows painted by D.H. Lawrence
- walking the labyrinth
- discovering a cute tea house: teaography {watch for a forthcoming giveaway}
- walking in to Taos Plaza three times
- spending time with paint, collage, and words through art journaling
- sitting with my {sometimes elusive} muse
- spending time with interesting women writers
- sitting by a fire in my neighbor’s room chatting about our memoir projects
Mid-week I began to experience something that hasn’t happened since grade school summer camp—I was homesick. I missed my pups and Tim. He’d send photos of Belle with her tongue out {her lack of teeth causes it to slip out sometimes} and Mookie with his usual FOMO {fear of missing out} look and I’d want to fly home. Those little beings mean so much to me and I can’t wait to snuggle with them in 13 hours {but who’s counting?!}.
During open writing time I was often torn between handling TranquiliT orders and Tranquil Space needs, so I wasn’t always able to fully drop in. I blame wifi and my inability to resist its lure. Yet when I did, the writing would flow and so would the many questions.
Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.—Rilke
What would it look like to create space and spend time with your muse? What is the longing deep within? What wants attention?
Ah, the questions. Wishing you a beautiful weekend filled with questions, creative sparks, and occasional answers. Bisous. x
