Dear Friend,
I can't believe it's already September. I've seen a few dogwood trees start to show some red on their leaves and I guess that means fall is coming. It seems too soon. I spent a lot of time reading and writing this week and a little bit of time watching movies. I helped around the inn here and there and drove Ruby around a lot. I spent some time in the local coffee shop and mingled with the regulars. I worked a few hours in the local used bookstore and went paddle boarding where the river meets the lake. (they meet...) And mostly....when I look back on the week... I just wrote, and read, and wrote. The words piled up and they'll just be there waiting for me I guess.
I've been rereading Anne Lamott's book Bird by Bird the past few days. I forgot how much I love her:
The best thing about being an artist, instead of a madman or someone who writes letters to the editor, is that you get to engage in satisfying work. Even if you never publish a word, you have something important to pour yourself into. ... Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot of dancing with or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It's like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can't stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship.
There is a fine line sometimes between being a madman and an artist. And there I've used the word artist and it feels awkward and silly.... Sometimes I feel really close to that mad-woman line, but when I feed my soul...with books and writing....and wandering....over and over...I feel that buoyancy Anne talks about. Buooooyannnncyyyy.
________________________
Tonight was a beautiful and sweet rehearsal dinner at the inn. The innkeeper's youngest son JT is getting married to his sweetheart Alli. Tomorrow is the wedding. Boo has been looking forward to this wedding all summer, and even gave a short speech tonight at the rehearsal. She was in tears.
At the end of the night I spent some time in the kitchen with the cooks and wait staff. As I walked in, one cook was headfirst in one of the ovens cleaning up and when another cook saw me enter he said in a perfect old lady witch voice "crawl just a wee bit further Gretel..." and pretending he was going to push her in. I don't know why it was so darn funny, but the whole kitchen erupted in laughter. After most of them had been cooking for three days straight in a hot kitchen, even bringing in their kids to help, they were just having a grand ole time. Clapping along with life. And they always greet me with such enthusiasm when I walk in...they have taken me in...eyes twinkling. Buoyancy overflowing.
Maybe this letter is a little all over the place but it's late and tomorrow's a big day. I've been trying to capture all the pretty wedding behind-the-scenes (sherbert....sherbet....colored flowers) and wandering around it all without getting in the way....pouring myself into it all without stretching myself too thin across the experience. And writing it all down like it's a little collection of specimens....insert....mad...woman.
Buoyantly,
Ashley
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