The orchards are full of mist, dew and longing.

Does place matter?  We always ask that when we think about writing and stories.  And it does matter.  Nebraska has a certain feeling to it.  It feels like a warm humming feeling like fertilizer and humming birds and corn and foxes in the corn.  Where we stay here there are big orchards and thick sunlight crawling through the orchards in the morning and threading out of it in the evening.  I woke early this morning and the mist hung over the orchard.

It’s amazing what is worth bragging about in this culture is what you can manage to deprive yourself of. I can manage without sleep! Wow you are something. I am so disciplined that I barely ate all summer and dropped 20 lbs.  Gold medal for you sister.  Of course if you’re bragging that you gave up sex, that’s just considered sad.  But if you manage to keep your expenses low, that’s a plus in the Midwest.  Not so much where I live.  No one brags that they only spend $100 on their beauty regimen because everyone else would know they were lying.  Back to place.  In Los Angeles, standard upkeep of your face, hair, nails, body, all that is considered par for the course.  We care how we are seen in a city that is all about surface.  Know your place and write from that core.  I know where I am now.  The mist has risen from the orchard.  I am going for a mile swim in the pool and then maybe for a walk as well.  I’m in Nebraska with some of my best friends.

Published in: on July 12, 2015 at 4:31 am  Leave a Comment  

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