billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Finally, the new windows! There were a couple of moments when it looked like something was missing and then another thing didn’t fit, but the crew worked through those before I could get too freaked out.
I’ve always wanted these casement windows in the upstairs front and it’s been an 8-month wait since we ordered them, so it’s wonderful to see this project coming to fruition on this beautiful 75-degree day.
On Monday I said goodbye to Weymouth and my writing women and headed home. It was a wonderful week of writing, writerly company and conversation, and an amazing dinner out. Our waitperson asked for our first names, told us we were her favorite table of the evening, and named us the Bright Little Diamonds.
The thing about a writing residency is that it is limited in time and thus very precious. Weymouth has a history of hosting writers even before it was a center for the arts and humanities, and you definitely feel that when you’re working there.
Of course, as I’ve said before, the best thing about the end of a writing week is coming home. To November Hill.
It’s definitely this farm’s namesake month right now, with trees losing leaves and color continuing to develop.
Since arriving home I’ve had a great day of housekeeping with my helper, a big batch of planting to get my fall natives into the ground, some bee hive prep for the freezing temps forecast for later this week, and today, getting horse sheets out of storage.
I have a few things left to plant and then it will be my job to track rainfall and water the new plants as needed so their root systems can develop over this winter. I’ll be doing some leaf mulching in the pastures, and focusing on a few projects we need to get done before the end of the year. But in a lot of ways, it’s time to enjoy the season and wind down the to do lists for the year.
Up at the mountain house the temps will be in the 20s this week, with the possibility of snow!
This morning I’m back to my regular writing routine, coffee and dogs and some quiet time to think and write. It’s not the great long span of writing days that Weymouth gives, but it’s sweet and it’s where the work lives most of the hours of the year. I’m glad to be home.
I’ve written about it before, many times in various places, how the creative process opens up to synchronicity if one pays attention and lets it happen.
Last night while editing a novel chapter I was reading the words Blackhawks and Pave Lows when a Blackhawk flew by overhead. What a charge of energy that moment gave to the editing process, and fueled me working on late into the night.
I’m editing a novel that has been sitting complete for several years. It’s a novel I love, but for whatever reason I moved on to other work and yesterday I dove back in to this novel’s world. We’ll see where this editing journey takes us.
This view from the writer’s kitchen helps:
It’s been a very long time since I was here at Weymouth Center For the Arts and Humanities as a writer in residence, and I’m absolutely relishing this week of time to dig in with my writing projects. It’s beautiful and quiet and I have no chores to do. No interruptions. Pure creative time.
I almost always come here with a project to finish, a self-imposed deadline, and a burning fever to “get it done.” This trip I made the decision to come with nothing on a list, no plan of action, but just me, my work, and the time to dip in and out of the various projects in a whimsical way.
Today I submitted two short pieces, redesigned my submission journal pages for a better ease of use, and who knows what I’ll do next as I move into the afternoon.
I’m not sure if this is my own aging process kicking in, lending its wisdom to the writing process, or if the pandemic has pushed me to view things differently. Surely some combination of the two. But it feels nice to be here letting the time and space guide me to what feels like the next right thing.
Whether or not you can go on a retreat like this, find some time and a place to be where you can retreat from the daily routine, even if just half an hour, and let yourself open up to creative thinking or other creative pursuits. It’s a gift we can give ourselves if we choose to do so. And it’s easy to forget in our busy lives how valuable this is for our minds, bodies, and spirits.
Go on, schedule a half hour, or an afternoon. If you can take a weekend or a full week, do it. This is the kind of thing that doesn’t just happen. You have to put it into your life.
Do it.
