Just reading in this morning's NYT an editor's pick story about a couple living in the woods in the mountains of North Carolina, 18 miles from Hot Springs, the nearest town. The story is about choosing the eremetic life, that is, the life of a hermit, again, a life of spiritual and actual solitude. Obviously, in this time of mandated social distancing, the Times's editors felt this would be something readers would find readable . . . and I did.
Maybe you will, too, given your love of poetry and poetry writing. Writing, as we all know, is a solitary thing, even when done in the context of workshops, salons and other groups like Wednesdays@One. What we haven't talked about so much is the spiritual inward-turning aspect of the art we practice, how much like prayer and meditation it can be. Not talking about it is probably wise. We might murder to dissect.
But it's always good to know that we come together each week as members of a community devoted to one of the most introspective of the literary arts.
And by the way, you will be interested to know that W@1 has been convening now for over three years. We began our little experiment this month in 2017.
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