Almost a week into my stay at The Writers' Colony at Dairy Springs in Eureka Springs, AR, yet it feels like much longer than that. Time is always slippery but lately, I feel as if it's expanding and contracting and playing all sorts of games with me.
In the past week and a half, I have ruptured a tendon in my wrist, taken a three-day road trip to Arkansas, checked into the Langston Hughes Suite at the Writers' Colony, had several lovely dinners with the other residents, made friends (I hope!) with the cook and housekeeper, conducted three dancer interviews, transcribed three dancer interviews, written one mini-chapter and outlined another. Walked thousands of steps up and down the hilly streets of Eureka Springs, found its three coffee shops, tried them all and haven't picked a fave yet. Saw a deer in the woodsy area between the residence and the Crescent Hotel, just up the hill. Gotten used to taking baths in my shower-less suite, and am loving early morning hikes on the trails that snake all around town, seeming like magic to never let me get lost and always bring me back to Spring Street, the heart and lovely soul of town.
Here are some scenes from this bucolic place. There's a motorcycle rally in town this weekend, so the bucolic quality is slightly diminished, but I trust it will return Monday.
My goal for the next week is to strike the balance between productivity, serenity, and being present enough to see and savor where I am.
May your week be the same!
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