decanting

I had this idea that I’d be able to blog from anywhere. “I can travel the world,” says I, “and work from wherever I am!” It took me about three weeks of settling in to Berlin before the words began to come, though. And when I traveled to Ireland and then, more recently, to Amsterdam, I just couldn’t find them. Of course I can always put words on a page, but I need a certain amount of internal calm to find just the right ones. It feels like decanting. I need to sit quietly, undisturbed, allowing the muddied water to go clear. The grit settles out and then I can pour off just the crisp, clean thoughts. I was feeling down on myself about it, but then remembered that Virginia Woolf also needed a room of her own. I am in good company. It’s good to know that this is how I am, as I begin this project of writing. I hoped I was someone who could write clearly every day wherever I was, now I know I need peace and quiet and that I should write as much as I can when I have the chance!

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