Summer Fury and Starting to Write Again

The days are hot here in New York and I haven't been blogging as much as I would like. I lost my camera early in July and began to realize how many of my posts come from what I see and how that makes me feel.

I've taken, perhaps, the longest writing break I've taken in a while. From the moment I finished the revisions to RABBIT ISLAND back in the first days of June, to today, I've written vritually nothing. Some journals. Some thoughts in this internet space.  I fooled around with a short story and decided to send it off into the wild to see if someone out there will publish it somewhere out there but, beyond that, I have been free of characters and plot for a long while.

I don't quite know how I feel about that. I've been dreaming a new novel for many moons and it, finally, feels like the right time to find the words for it. To think that I haven't worked on a new project with new characters and new story threads since before my wedding, over a year ago, my breath and heart quicken, wondering, what will it feel like to start again? To lean over the page and let my hair fall over the swirling s's and crossed t's of my thoughts.

I don't know.

As I originally thought of what to post here I could only think of the heat, the crowds in the subways, the way we're trapped in between buildings in this ferocious July.  This has been the fury of the sun each day from my iPhone. #NoFilter. As they say.

I leave for Ireland soon. A much needed escape.

I hope your summers are full of happy surprises. Or lazy sameness. Both great in their own ways.

Almost Wordless Wednesday: Summer Soon

Floating clouds and the bend of my arm here in the eyeless reflection.

For as much time as I spend in front of a computer or in a windowless office, shielded from sun, I'm always waiting for it, finding it, savoring it, when I can.

Do You Wanna?

I read from the grass and then from the bed, both times in the shadow of leaves, next to children's laughter. First the park, then in my apartment, up from the street, where summer floods from the fire hydrants and the blow-up bouncy castle is green and blue, matching my view from the ground.

My neighbor Leo has swim goggles wrapped across his forehead. Spy glasses, he tells me, and I have glasses that can read backwards, his friend chimes in because Leo has wanted me to meet her, his friend, my friend, I don't know how many times he has said this now, my friend, my friend, who I must meet.

Her brown bangs take off running above her eyebrows in a straight line, eyes huge as she surveys my apartment. Leo has flung the door open and soldiered in barefoot but she remains in the hallway, against the wall and tells me her name is Annique not Unique, she is very specific about that, and I wonder, still, how she spells it.

Their tongues are matching green and her shirt is stained the same as they each slurp from wooden sticks and when Leo's ice slides to the floor, before I can chime in that we haven't washed it, his dirt-stained hands are wrapped around the forest green chunk and it's back in his mouth, with Annique gasping, her head shaking at her friend, her friend, her friend.

They speak a language I know I used to understand because while I think to grab a paper towel for the green ice that now leaks across the floorboards, they are already, do you wanna, and the words are off running along side the excitement caught up in her shriek, hand in hand galloping down the stairs past walls that are covered in the dust of tire tracks from carrying the bicycles up and down.

They are off, our brief, necessary meet and greet now over, and I smile thinking of summer and ice melting at my tongue, palms sticky, shirt stained, running hand in hand, breathless with do you wanna?

Loving Lately

Every Monday the lovely Catherine Denton shares what she is Loving Lately and she is encouraging others to do the same. I love the idea and she inspired me to go for it.  I hope you'll hop over to her blog and share a link to what you love too. 

So here's what I'm loving lately:

Lil A. My friends daughter, who, at three months old, took her first subway ride to visit our home.  I love that she is soft and warm and new.  I love her mother-- and her father-- but especially her mother because we lived as roommates for years. We knew one another when we hoped to have the things we have now. And I know how lucky Lil A is to have her.

New York City. For making me angry and sweaty and overwhelmed. For being louder and more crowded than I like. For inspiring me to look harder, discover deeper. For being more beautiful and alive than I can ever imagine.

Summer. For being purple. Vibrant. Green.  

What are you loving lately?

Easy Summer

So much time in New York City is frantic, over-programmed.  I am not a huge planner. So I often get left behind.  There are times when I email or call a friend and say how about dinner this weekend? Then, I am given their calendar, the dates they have available, oh not this weekend but maybe 6 weeks from now?

It's not rude or even surprising.  It's something I've grown accustomed to, living in a place where calendars are important, where every hour is an hour to fill.  (And I'll admit there have been periods in my life where I have done the same.)

Of course, Tyler and I are in a phase where we only plan our day the morning it is about to unfold and we often find ourselves in the predicament above. 

On Saturday, however, something wonderful happened.  I had known one of my favorite friends would be in town from Boston to see a musical with her family but timing was unclear, so we hadn't made plans, and the day before, we decided we'd meet at Grand Central, we'd wander from there.

Another favorite friend had told us to stop by, the same day, to see their beautiful baby girl, who came into the world 5 weeks ago (5 weeks too early, in fact-- aha! babies don't like calendars either!) 

And, as all this took place, a text from more favorite friends: we'll be in your neighborhood, want to meet for a drink?

It never happens.  But it did.  So we skipped around and saw some of the best people we know.  

It felt a lot like being at Rosemary's house, my mother's cousin, who I adored more than almost anyone in the world, who always let us stop by, unannounced, and people floated in and out while I sat in one of her wooden kitchen chairs drinking sweet iced tea, eating crumb cake, with everyone laughing, telling loud stories.


When you were at Rosemary's it always felt like being at the best party because you didn't know there was going to be a party at all.

So I think of Rosemary and summer and friends and post these two photos. I took the first in winter.  I took the second on Saturday.  Look at the difference.

Saturday was summer, feeling the way it should.  Sun-soaked. Green. Easy.  Like running out the screen door, jumping the three steps to the grass, racing down the street, banging a fist on the door of a friend's house, wanna play?