the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: australia (page 9 of 51)

light at the end of one tunnel. five weeks.

Life is a series of tunnels. I don’t think it’s about the light at the end of one tunnel per se, I reckon we all swim through a number of interlocked tunnel-ways with intermittent breaks of light along the way.

New York City is basically a fire-y comet that has a few of my tunnels on flaming at the moment.

The result of this remains to be a bit of, “Ummm… for real?” Continue reading

the official countdown

G’day gorgeous collection of cult

19 days. In 19 days, the soles of my feet will be on New York City soil. Unlike the other three trips that I have taken since October 2009 running around hollering, “COME ON! Someone… ANYONE!… Give me a JOB so I can finish my novel!”

I have a job… I have a soul circle chairperson with a cozy couch waiting and a pair of keys to his apartment cut that jangle in my handbag whenever I’m out and about… I have a vision blog family. Continue reading

poetry: volume two

Officially publishing this today has had an indescribable effect on me. I feel somewhat solemn. Last year when I published Poetry: Volume one in New York City, there was champagne and celebrations. Right now the puppies are asleep in my lap, so it’s equally as wonderful – simply a different sort.

I imagine I’ll feel excited about it at some stage. In the meantime, for those of you interested in adding me to your bookshelf…

 

one more sleep for good measure

The good thing about being the Writer / Editor / Formatter / Publisher of your own book is you are the also the only shot caller when it comes to deadlines. Therefore, I hereby postpone Poetry: Volume Two publication for one more day. Continue reading

melbourne. more.

As I roll into my last month of Melbourne, final seventeen days if you will, nostalgia is taking time to creep in and rattle reflections of Australia. I have lived here for nearly a decade, after all.

Melbourne is the city that introduced me to macchiatos and taught me how to say mate. It’s where I came to realize how the sound of a didgeridoo, at any given time, ignites immediate reaction to stomp my bare feet and shake my tangled tresses.

It’s where I stopped thinking I might be an Artist, learned valuable lessons about who I literally am, and heard my voice change from a shaky, “I write…” to a firm “I’m a Writer… mate…”

Melbourne is where I decided to stop masking my spirituality. It’s where I learned what it means to truly have a soul mate, story books aside.

Melbourne dipped me into my first summer Christmas and popped my chilly August winters with bursting citrus trees. It’s the place that olive groves sprouted on my block and I gained proper understanding of what a real pub is. Continue reading

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