tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153022829143323463.post3857642845246650794..comments2024-03-28T14:12:07.313+00:00Comments on A Writer's Life: On Not Writing in ItalyKathleen Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07645566938871914385noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153022829143323463.post-29087866392909967612010-02-15T11:55:08.727+00:002010-02-15T11:55:08.727+00:00Thanks for the sympathy and good advice guys. I b...Thanks for the sympathy and good advice guys. I began to write again on the train from Gatwick to Victoria! Life is very strange.Kathleen Joneshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07645566938871914385noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153022829143323463.post-53822378965763986552010-02-12T07:59:07.024+00:002010-02-12T07:59:07.024+00:00I think you have explained the problems that you a...I think you have explained the problems that you are having.<br />You are a writer, so when you are ready your muse will caress you on the cheek and show you the way forward.<br />In the mean time, enjoy what is no doubt a well earned rest.Alhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15625543235578144620noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153022829143323463.post-55575869584059490552010-02-11T16:56:07.022+00:002010-02-11T16:56:07.022+00:00Welcome home again Kathleen.
The sculpture is ex...Welcome home again Kathleen. <br /><br />The sculpture is exquisite, elegant. I've stolen a copy of it to put on my board. Hope that is OK.<br /><br />I should might say that you have written in Italy - colourful, exciting posts and images laid down like a carpet of experience. And shared.<br /><br />It's true that the detailed work of editing is very tiring and maybe does leave little emotional energy the make, to invent, to spin old into new. <br /><br />But perhaps you've hit it on the head when you mention the cold. Here in the north it's colder (probably) than Italy but we're geared up to compensate with overpriced heating all over the house. This is the time of closed in days where I feel I should write because that is the only thing that holds light and joy. Not easy. It had to be better in Italy. <br /><br />Last spring I escaped to the Languedoc for two months to write - no distractions etc worked for me. It was hot and bright and I wrote inside, outside, by the river, in the Cafe. In many ways the experience induced the hazy dreamlike state than you mention. Seemed to work. Now in my own cosy den, with the distractions around it is harder, more serious. Less playful. Less possible to write.<br /><br />Thank you for making me think of all of this and understand a bit more.<br />wxx<br /><br />wxWendy Rhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03532817003318632539noreply@blogger.com