you aren't fucked, you just need to rest - by jess - dessin

A few weeks ago I went to a poetry retreat. I briskly walked to the station, shuttled myself to the airport (love the airport train), and then flew to Boston, where I was picked up by my friend E and chickadees1 in tow, and we went on our way to Parsonsfield, Maine. We had really good guacamole in a plaza somewhere halfway and then continued driving. The last thirty minute leg of the trip had us driving on a dark windy road. I tried not to look too hard into the thick wall of trees on either side of the road, because I am chicken and if I saw something looking back at me it would ruin my life. I was about to do no work for the entire retreat but didn't know it just yet. subscribe for regular dispatches from my art / writing studio ❀ plus regular emails about joy, books, & creative practice I have not really been in the woods before. I have camped on registered campsites and have slept a minute's walk away from working plumbing. Even when visiting my Grandma's village, there were two wo

A few weeks ago I went to a poetry retreat. I briskly walked to the station, shuttled myself to the airport (love the airport train), and then flew to Boston, where I was picked up by my friend E and chickadees1 in tow, and we went on our way to Parsonsfield, Maine. We had really good guacamole in a plaza somewhere halfway and then continued driving. The last thirty minute leg of the trip had us driving on a dark windy road. I tried not to look too hard into the thick wall of trees on either side of the road, because I am chicken and if I saw something looking back at me it would ruin my life.