Last week one of my best friends -- someone who's been, literally, like a brother to me since we were 17 -- died suddenly and unexpectedly. Of course, I've been crying and thinking about him and going over my memories -- and regretting how many times I COULD HAVE seen him, but didn't, because I thought it would disrupt my writing.
Grace has been saying for years that I need to learn to write "on the go," and it's time to do it-- to say YES AND (yes, I can go, I can do that, AND write), not "No because."
"Thank you, I'd love to come!" -- to NY or London or wherever I'm asked; and I'll bring my laptop with me, get up early, and write. (Tips for writing when away from home eagerly solicited!)
If I don't learn to do this, the only time I'll ever see my adult friends is when people come here--which happens once a month at most.
The people I mostly see here, where I live, are 11 and under; and I love the time I spend with them. It's different from time with adults, because when I'm with children, I am completely present, focused on being there for them -- meeting their needs -- something that is probably all too familiar to those of you who are mothers. I don't think about myself at all. If you're not a mother this is unusual, I think.
Sometimes I am rewarded by a glimpse of the world through their eyes, as in this photograph, taken by an eleven-year old with his ipod touch: I called it Trafffic on Tower Bridge in my Patch piece about him and his Legos.
When I look at this photograph, it looks so real -- the angle of vision, the distance between the cars, everything. It looks exactly as it would look if you were in a car, driving over the bridge. He's created a world he believes in -- I'd love to do that in my own, on the go, writing.
