October 31, 2014
It appears that it has been almost three years since I last posted on this blog, and I'm here to try this another time, hoping that whoever read this in the past might revisit, or that I might actually find some new readers interested in one writer's reflections on journeys, books, the writing process, art, music, food, cats & elephants …. yes, just plain everyday life!
I have traveled back to Asia a couple of times, to Cambodia and Vietnam (2013), and to Burma just the beginning of this year, touching base again with a wish to understand more of Southeast Asia. Take pictures less, and really look more. Out of the trips to the Killing Fields in Cambodia where I grappled with death, and Hanoi where I struggled to find the legacy of the Vietnam war, eventually came a book project. It had been brewing in me for many, many years: "I must write a book before I die" kind of message, and I envisioned a rich collection of travel writings that would provoke any intellectual or armchair travel reader. What happened instead is a compilation of kaleidoscopic pieces that talk not only of Paris and Bhutan and Africa, but also - and perhaps most importantly - of my past, my eccentric childhood that had always seemed a blurred landscape. The connections between my past and my present obsession with travel started becoming very clear, with the help of writer Paul Theroux who wrote that he traveled in order to know who he was, and that any journey "out" is a journey back home…
I want to explore the process of digging into memory, of playing with what shows up, and staying confident that all of it will come together in something beautiful or at least interesting.
The writing process, the inner critic who must be understood and tolerated … the urgency of creative effort at time in life when you feel that your time is slipping away…. These are just a few of the directions I am contemplating. When you traverse the territory of memory, you are immediately on shaky, uncertain ground. That's both unnerving and a little exciting at the same time, because it opens the door to playing with the so-called "facts." You must get over not begin able to remember a lot, because that's what happens to many of us, especially when we've lived a fairly long time (try 70 years!), and so you must do a dance with what you do remember, you breathe in and out and trust those creative juices, that drive to speak your truth.
Tonight is Halloween, a holiday I haven't celebrated in a long time, but one that brings to mind the world of the dead, and the spirits that lurk about us. I believe in those spirits, for I think that it is the presence of both my grandmother and mother who have showed up for me in dreams and thoughts in the last year and half as I have been writing that have helped to point the way.
Welcome back to Mag's reflections, and may everyone be filled with wonder at the beauty of the fall...
