Monday, September 19, 2011
A short video of highlights of AROHO 2011 Retreat
. . . the reflective wanderer, whose wide-ranging thoughts, deepened and developed after the fact,
I have, of necessity, decided that the posts here in shall be of the reflective, type -- recollections as far as I am able of the events and feelings of the week I spent with eighty other writers - all of us women -- at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico for the 2011 AROHO retreat.
The major part of the charm was that we were wrenched away from our electronics. Their use was limited by the terrain. For the most part it was a welcome relief. Most of us admitted we wrote more and better under the circumstance of less access. So -- concurrent posting was difficult and seemed counterproductive.
these then are the musings of an reflective wanderer, whose wide-ranging thoughts, deepened and developed after the fact of our week at Ghost Ranch.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
settling in at Ghost Ranch
8/9/11
My reading was the first of the series this evening. I read the entire last chapter of STAND THE STORM. It was well received. I hadn't looked at this material in quite a whie. It felt gratifying to have a positive feedback on it.
Coyotes and blackbirds - 8/10/11
howled furiously for several minutes this morning @6:15a. It was a piercing sound -- like the wail of ambulances -- calling and answering for several minutes. I couldn't see them or get my video camera set in time.
9:00a -- there are two large black birds who are cussing and cawing back and forth -- also seemingly in a fury. They are loud and relentless - perched in a tree side by side. Finally they fly away together.
9:56a -- a hay baler is pulled along the rows of mown hay and producing neat bales of the stuff.
10:30a -- we heard a wonderful keynote address by the incomparable Marilynne Robinson. She spoke in a quietly ferocious, wry manner. She exhorted us to respect and appreciate our minds and write from this place. She spoke to the troubling ideas about inadequacy in contemporary culture and suggested that we resist this at all cost. "Art pushes back."
In New Mexico the sun is the thing -- when it is up full, the heat blisters you. when clouds cover over a breeze is felt. when the sun is down the dark is total -- complete. but there is little fear in this total dark except to step on something that will bite. The moon is up high and bright and the stars are visible if clouds don't interfere. They are interfering tonight.
There are unaccustomed "things" here abouts. Snakes are known and flashlights are suggested for night walks. Lizards dart around and we are told to keep doors closed after dark so that these fellows don't come inside.
There are many more readings this evening -- under the full moon.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Bad policies/polices and hostile people
A bad thing - 8/7/11 - approx. 5:00p
occurred as I got off the train from Chicago and arrived in Albuquerque. It threatened to spoil much of my good mood. I had been elated at finally arriving and glowing from bidding my seat companion - a pleasant man who studies in Canada and lives in Mexico. "A Dios," I had said to him and he repeated when I left the seat. I saw the young man who had gotten off my train - in fact, had sat across from me. -- early 20's -- obviously looking Latino. I'd heard him speak Spanish on the train. In the station - not five minutes off the train - a policeman asked for his identification and questioned his purpose in coming to Albuquerque and, though he was polite in that nasty polite way of a cop exerting his authority, I was reminded that many people are hostile to people they believe are not in the U. S. legally. He had to show I.D and answer questions. It put an ugly taste in my mouth. I almost changed my mind about NM.
I continue to think about the incident. I heard the cop's voice -- questioning the young man who remained soft-spoken and forthcoming though he hadn't been talking on the train. I had thought of him as just another slouchy, unsmiling young boy whose pants were garish and low slung. I got swept with the feeling of maternal concern. I wanted to do something to the smug cop. Really. I got very angry. But I kept to my own business. The woman at the Amtrak information and ticket window was not courteous at first and I gave her a look that I would not have ordinarily used. And she got nicer and called a cab for me.
occurred as I got off the train from Chicago and arrived in Albuquerque. It threatened to spoil much of my good mood. I had been elated at finally arriving and glowing from bidding my seat companion - a pleasant man who studies in Canada and lives in Mexico. "A Dios," I had said to him and he repeated when I left the seat. I saw the young man who had gotten off my train - in fact, had sat across from me. -- early 20's -- obviously looking Latino. I'd heard him speak Spanish on the train. In the station - not five minutes off the train - a policeman asked for his identification and questioned his purpose in coming to Albuquerque and, though he was polite in that nasty polite way of a cop exerting his authority, I was reminded that many people are hostile to people they believe are not in the U. S. legally. He had to show I.D and answer questions. It put an ugly taste in my mouth. I almost changed my mind about NM.
I continue to think about the incident. I heard the cop's voice -- questioning the young man who remained soft-spoken and forthcoming though he hadn't been talking on the train. I had thought of him as just another slouchy, unsmiling young boy whose pants were garish and low slung. I got swept with the feeling of maternal concern. I wanted to do something to the smug cop. Really. I got very angry. But I kept to my own business. The woman at the Amtrak information and ticket window was not courteous at first and I gave her a look that I would not have ordinarily used. And she got nicer and called a cab for me.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
The trip begins today. 8/5/11
I have not planned how I will do the blog. I'm in Penn Station in NYC -- The train station. Many, many departures from here with my son, Najeeb -- sending him off alone in the later years -- going to D.C. I must be careful not to get filled up with tears and start being sentimental about leaving, trains and people coming and going. I make phone calls -- am too superstitious not to bid each loved one good bye. I am - as my father always happily, affectionately said -- a crybaby. So I'm making a point of not getting "stirred up."
approx. 5pm - some bit late leaving. We are leaving NYC by traveling northbound beside the Hudson River. My seat companion is a high school exchange student from Dusseldorf,Germany. A pleasant young man with good English though not fluent. There is, unfortunately, a talkative toddler sitting across -- with indulgent parents. Cute -- but she'll be tiresome before the night is out. I'm listening to Sam Cooke and the Soul stirrers -- to invoke Jan.
The view outside the window is pleasant -- we are riding the rails right next to the Hudson. We seem at times to be in the river. 6:11p - the sun is setting and it is lovely and seemingly quiet.
11:02 -- I dislike that we keep stopping. It's dark, of course and most everyone is asleep. I can't seem to drop off -- not uncomfortable, but not sleepy. Strange for me.
9/6/11 --
had breakfast in the dining car and sat with a charming and interesting older woman preacher going to a spiritual retreat - at about 9:00a we stopped in Waterloo, IN
We saw several Amish families in Indiana -- there is something called Amish village - an entertainment theme park? Is this possible? I saw the brochure.
We took forever to get to Chicago. Our train was three hours late in arrival. I decided not to leave the station to pursue anything outside.
In Chicago Union Station
more people than I would ever have thought. Many, many delayed trains. The air conditioning was non-existent in most areas. There were few seats of any kind. People were arrayed on the floor -- draped over their bags. I thought my bag was big and cumbersome and heavy and going to be difficult. Some of the bags were enormous conglomerations of straps and pouches-- mounds of stuff -- lugging them around the station.
Plenty of people brought the pillow off their bed.Lots of young people. I heard it said that Lollapalooza was happening this weekend. The stunning Union Station waiting room was closed for a wedding. Everybody was packed into the boarding area. They had some fans, but . . .
I took it upon myself to sit in the padded seat of one of the red cap vehicles that was parked in the station. I figured to stay until they asked me to get up. Then I saw a mature black man -- thin and dark -- was going to sit down on the floor on top of his clothes in dry cleaning bags. I waved him over to the vehicle. I said we might as well sit there until we were forced to give it up. We chatted. He told me he was going to an annual church reunion in a small historically Black town near Metropolis, Ill. He told me a lot of the history of the place and spoke about the picnic after the reunion. He said the people including his grandmther -- had bought a church building in Metropolis from a white congregation and had moved the building via mules out to their town. He said they didnt want to be where the white people could interfere with them. Certain things surprise me -- but then do not. This man confirmed a thing that I know to be true -- in life and in my fiction. He said he'd been incarcerated for 18 years, but had turned his life around. And he said he had a ministry. But he was polite and we chatted until we went to get in the impossibly long lines to board the trains. He was going to Carbondale, Ill where his uncle will pick him up. Because the train doesn't stop in his little town, but also no longer stops in Metropolis. He was chagrined though because he had lost his sport jacket. He wasn't sure where he'd left it.
On the Southwest Chief:
We stopped at Galesburg, Ill. - the birthplace of Carl Sandburg. This is still flat and farmish-looking country with vintage rail cars lining the tracks
We crossed the Mississippi at 7:50p at Fort Madison, Iowa. I was impressed. I sat in the observation car across from a young man who said he was training for the first time and was also greatly impressed at the view.
I was seated for dinner community style and enjoyed the company of three others -- a single man and a couple going to Kansas City. It was a congenial meal. I had a glass of wine to help me sleep.
8/7/11 ---
I freshened up around 5:00a - still no shower stall -- not too ugly yet. I'm looking forward to a hot shower in the hotel in ABQ. We stopped at Dodge City, Kansas around 6:00a. Some people boarded - one of whom looks like a skinhead though, in fact, he had a mohawk cut.
6:36a -- sunrise -- where? -- the land is flat and farmish -- the light is soft. A clutch of Black women I had seen in the station at Chicago came into the observation car and we greeted each other pleasantly. On either side of the train tracks there are corn fields. They are not tall yet. The tops are yellow and grassy-looking and the effect as that they are ike rollig hillsof wheat -- but it is not wheat. Virtually no people are seen in these fields -- only cattle.
I went in the dining car for breakfast at 7am and was seated with boy scouts -- an adult and two youngsters. We were stiff at first, but got comfortable. One delightful thing about the train dining is that you are seated with people you don't know. If you're alone at least you get to greet somebody and converse politely. They were from Iowa, got on in Kansas City and are going to New Mexico to the BSA camp to do a 33 mile hike. It turns out the extremely tall skin head lookalike is one of the Boy Scouts.
The food on the train is VERY not interesting!
9:30a -- we crossed into Colorado at La Junta = junction
vast expanse of brown soil and scrubby trees
11:34a -- stopped in Trinidad, CO - Bat Masterson, The Earps, Doc Holiday et al.
12:15p - saw a large brown bear from the train -- much enthusiasm - at Raton, NM - just through the Raton Pass.
I have not planned how I will do the blog. I'm in Penn Station in NYC -- The train station. Many, many departures from here with my son, Najeeb -- sending him off alone in the later years -- going to D.C. I must be careful not to get filled up with tears and start being sentimental about leaving, trains and people coming and going. I make phone calls -- am too superstitious not to bid each loved one good bye. I am - as my father always happily, affectionately said -- a crybaby. So I'm making a point of not getting "stirred up."
approx. 5pm - some bit late leaving. We are leaving NYC by traveling northbound beside the Hudson River. My seat companion is a high school exchange student from Dusseldorf,Germany. A pleasant young man with good English though not fluent. There is, unfortunately, a talkative toddler sitting across -- with indulgent parents. Cute -- but she'll be tiresome before the night is out. I'm listening to Sam Cooke and the Soul stirrers -- to invoke Jan.
The view outside the window is pleasant -- we are riding the rails right next to the Hudson. We seem at times to be in the river. 6:11p - the sun is setting and it is lovely and seemingly quiet.
11:02 -- I dislike that we keep stopping. It's dark, of course and most everyone is asleep. I can't seem to drop off -- not uncomfortable, but not sleepy. Strange for me.
9/6/11 --
had breakfast in the dining car and sat with a charming and interesting older woman preacher going to a spiritual retreat - at about 9:00a we stopped in Waterloo, IN
We saw several Amish families in Indiana -- there is something called Amish village - an entertainment theme park? Is this possible? I saw the brochure.
We took forever to get to Chicago. Our train was three hours late in arrival. I decided not to leave the station to pursue anything outside.
In Chicago Union Station
more people than I would ever have thought. Many, many delayed trains. The air conditioning was non-existent in most areas. There were few seats of any kind. People were arrayed on the floor -- draped over their bags. I thought my bag was big and cumbersome and heavy and going to be difficult. Some of the bags were enormous conglomerations of straps and pouches-- mounds of stuff -- lugging them around the station.
Plenty of people brought the pillow off their bed.Lots of young people. I heard it said that Lollapalooza was happening this weekend. The stunning Union Station waiting room was closed for a wedding. Everybody was packed into the boarding area. They had some fans, but . . .
I took it upon myself to sit in the padded seat of one of the red cap vehicles that was parked in the station. I figured to stay until they asked me to get up. Then I saw a mature black man -- thin and dark -- was going to sit down on the floor on top of his clothes in dry cleaning bags. I waved him over to the vehicle. I said we might as well sit there until we were forced to give it up. We chatted. He told me he was going to an annual church reunion in a small historically Black town near Metropolis, Ill. He told me a lot of the history of the place and spoke about the picnic after the reunion. He said the people including his grandmther -- had bought a church building in Metropolis from a white congregation and had moved the building via mules out to their town. He said they didnt want to be where the white people could interfere with them. Certain things surprise me -- but then do not. This man confirmed a thing that I know to be true -- in life and in my fiction. He said he'd been incarcerated for 18 years, but had turned his life around. And he said he had a ministry. But he was polite and we chatted until we went to get in the impossibly long lines to board the trains. He was going to Carbondale, Ill where his uncle will pick him up. Because the train doesn't stop in his little town, but also no longer stops in Metropolis. He was chagrined though because he had lost his sport jacket. He wasn't sure where he'd left it.
On the Southwest Chief:
We stopped at Galesburg, Ill. - the birthplace of Carl Sandburg. This is still flat and farmish-looking country with vintage rail cars lining the tracks
We crossed the Mississippi at 7:50p at Fort Madison, Iowa. I was impressed. I sat in the observation car across from a young man who said he was training for the first time and was also greatly impressed at the view.
I was seated for dinner community style and enjoyed the company of three others -- a single man and a couple going to Kansas City. It was a congenial meal. I had a glass of wine to help me sleep.
8/7/11 ---
I freshened up around 5:00a - still no shower stall -- not too ugly yet. I'm looking forward to a hot shower in the hotel in ABQ. We stopped at Dodge City, Kansas around 6:00a. Some people boarded - one of whom looks like a skinhead though, in fact, he had a mohawk cut.
6:36a -- sunrise -- where? -- the land is flat and farmish -- the light is soft. A clutch of Black women I had seen in the station at Chicago came into the observation car and we greeted each other pleasantly. On either side of the train tracks there are corn fields. They are not tall yet. The tops are yellow and grassy-looking and the effect as that they are ike rollig hillsof wheat -- but it is not wheat. Virtually no people are seen in these fields -- only cattle.
I went in the dining car for breakfast at 7am and was seated with boy scouts -- an adult and two youngsters. We were stiff at first, but got comfortable. One delightful thing about the train dining is that you are seated with people you don't know. If you're alone at least you get to greet somebody and converse politely. They were from Iowa, got on in Kansas City and are going to New Mexico to the BSA camp to do a 33 mile hike. It turns out the extremely tall skin head lookalike is one of the Boy Scouts.
The food on the train is VERY not interesting!
9:30a -- we crossed into Colorado at La Junta = junction
vast expanse of brown soil and scrubby trees
11:34a -- stopped in Trinidad, CO - Bat Masterson, The Earps, Doc Holiday et al.
12:15p - saw a large brown bear from the train -- much enthusiasm - at Raton, NM - just through the Raton Pass.
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