Adapting
Dispatches from Maine
I’m writing today from the mountains of Maine. It’s Day 5 out of 10 of my stay at Hewnoaks Artist Residency, located about 60 miles north of Portland, and 30 minutes away from the nearest grocery store and laundromat. I can see blue dragonflies and the occasional hummingbird outside my screen window. There’s a lake, and countless tall trees. It’s sunny today for the first time since I got here. The rain was actually quite nice. I have a sound machine in our kids’ room that makes the same sound. There’s one communal cabin that has internet, where the other residents (four others) and the residency worker have gathered a couple times for wine and shared meals. Otherwise, we each have our separate cabins with our own kitchens and showers, that are completely off the grid and distant from one another. Mine is at the bottom of the hill. Whenever I come up to this communal cabin, I feel like I’m on a stairmaster. I can’t help but make these kinds of comparisons; I am an urbanite since birth. At the same time, my body is remembering how to be comfortable in a space like this. Not necessarily immersed in nature, but living in cabins. I had spent my summers from Grades 3-5 at various Girl Scout camps scattered throughout California. I also lived in an artist residency for a few weeks in Woodstock after my MFA. (That venue left such a deep impression on me, that Jin and I held our wedding reception there, about 8 years ago.)
Before arriving, I had joked to Jin that I was entering Stephen King’s territory, but I later learned that the bestselling author actually lives around here, and that his foundation supports Hewnoaks. This makes perfect sense now, in retrospect, but here is how my journey really started. I drove up here in a rental car—an adorable yellow compact Mitsubishi—with another artist, a metalsmith, who flew in to Portland Airport. We hit it off right away. Our conversations drowned out my playlist and, for a minute, my navigation. I took one wrong turn, but the GPS rerouted us quickly, leading us to a narrow graveled path through the woods that reminded me of that first scene in Spirited Away when the dad takes a shortcut, which then leads to a forbidden spiritual world. We crossed an old bridge while my passenger and I screamed “Ahhh!” the whole time. “This is how those horror movies start,” she said. I assured her, but also verbalized this to assure myself: “We’re going to be the Final Girls, we’re going to make it!” It was raining. The sun had already set. Neither of us had ever been to this area.
We eventually made it, though I can’t fathom how we would have done this without my phone and its GPS technology. Upon arrival, we asked the residency worker if he knew about this mysterious road we took, but he had no idea where it would be.
I slept horribly the first night. I was wary of all the spiders on the windows and the corners of my bedroom. I couldn’t get used to the rustic smell and the bouncy texture of the bed. I heard animal howls in the distance. I took a CBD gummy to calm my nerves and slept maybe five hours before waking up.
It took a couple days to really feel settled in. A fellow resident, a poet, invited me to go swimming with her in the lake. We made a plan to meet there “on Tuesday at dusk.” I went and waited while sitting in silence, staring at the lake and waving hello to someone, who probably lives nearby, who was kayaking past. My poet friend arrived, and it started to rain again, which made it even nicer to swim. The water wasn’t cold. I could feel slimy rocks under my toes. We did the breaststroke to deeper parts and came back to the shallow areas to resume conversations. We spoke about writing while raising kids. (She also has two boys.) She offered advice and shared her experience at other residencies. I have no idea how long we were in the water. It was one of the loveliest ways to get to know someone.
I have since slept well, at least 8 hours a day, and have experienced fewer headaches from my caffeine-addicted brain. In between layers of work and rest, I have figured out some new ways of finishing and revising my novel. I may not finish everything I initially set out to do, but this experience so far has been a reminder of this simple yet difficult idea, that rest is productive, too.
To be continued…
I’m teaching less now that I’m working full-time at The Porch, but I’m still clinging on to my favorite series, in collaboration with the Nashville Philharmonic Orchestra. In this special one-day workshop called Words & Music, we’ll listen to excerpts from a piece of classical music that will be performed by the orchestra in an upcoming concert (10/15 and 10/17, both free and open to the public). I’ll guide you as you write sensory and emotional responses to the music. At the end, you'll have the option to share these responses to be printed and displayed at the concert venues. Designed for listeners and writers of all levels. No prior knowledge of classical music required!
Saturday, September 23, 12pm-1pm at The Porch: Words & Music (for Teens)
Saturday, October 7, 10am-12pm at The Porch: Words & Music (for Adults)
Also on Saturday October 7, from 2:30pm-4pm at MTSU, I’ll be teaching a writing class called “What You Learn When You Leave Home” as part of their annual conference. Registrations are still open!
As the founder and co-organizer of the Nashville AAPI Writers, I am proud to present the Asian Fall Harvest Festival, happening on Wednesday, October 18, 6:30pm at The Foundry. This special event is a collaboration between our writers group, API Middle Tennessee, and Shoes Off Nashville. Inspired by the Mid-Autumn Festival that happens throughout many Asian cultures, this unique concert experience fuses live music, storytelling, and crafted dishes from local Asian-owned businesses in Nashville. There will be musical performances by Lisa Goe, Elissa Sun, Tyler Kohrs, and Andrei, as well as readings by local writers Sarong Vit-Kory, Sheba Karim, and Malaka Gharib. Attendees will also be given complimentary copies of special booklets that will include six written pieces by other Nashville AAPI writers. There will be a boba bar, mooncakes, japchae, and more. Get tickets here!
so glad you're having a good time! sounds gorgeous!