It is April 11th, the first day of my 40th year.
I am sitting at a big wooden desk looking out at an unkempt grassy field with a line of blue ridge mountains low behind the trees. The world is greening.
This is the first day of my two week writing residency in central Virginia. It's the first time I've ever left my family for two weeks (or more than four nights!). And it will be the first swath of space I've created for writing in a decade.
So far this morning I've checked my email several times, mapped out a possible August road trip, sent messages to Ben about a brownie meeting I forgot about, and made cups of tea.
Soon I will get to work -- whatever that will mean.
The visual art hanging all around this place -- sculptures jutting up out of fields, paintings tacked on walls -- the kind people framing the breakfast table, the darting birds: much here inspires.
Getting started -- now that's a different matter.
But I will go, on this first day of my last year in my 30's, and see what will come.
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