the world & words of a new york city writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: happiness (page 5 of 30)

cause your sex takes me to paradise

I’ve been working two full-time jobs lately. One writing, one falling in love. And as much joy that I take in being a professional Writer… the second job is why I’ve been so scarce.

I actually took the D train to Brooklyn for the first time the this week. Anthony and I decided this is a more practical choice from time to time opposed to an $80 return cab fare. Although, as my boyfriend puts it, “40 bucks each way to get us to each other in twenty minutes is nothing.” The subway is an hour.

IMG_2867I’ve never had an official boyfriend. It’s really fun. He always asks, “Do you need money?” when another car adventure comes; he brings me flowers every time it’s his turn to visit Manhattan; I wear his clothes everywhere; he’s a gentleman, always.

If I don’t marry this man, I’ll be shocked. Certainly it wouldn’t be the first shock I’ve endured – but it would definitely be one of the greatest.

I’ve never looked in anyone’s eyes and actually witnessed my future before. The way he speaks to me, looks at me and silently dwells around me is the greatest level of divinity I’ve experienced. It’s like ever single element in my life came together.

We talk about my writing a lot. He’s always encouraging me to submit something IMG_2903somewhere and I’m always contesting that no great Writer ever gets known before we croak. I told him how proud I was of myself when I got my first business card to officially say Writer on it and he concurred.

I’ll post some fresh creative work soon. It’s been spilling in inky rivers for three weeks now. Something about the perfection in the balance of finding who you’ll be with forever has returned to me…

And it has been a really, really fucking long time.

I’ll be bouncing around Anthony’s apartment later, wearing one of his garments, bopping to this:

“Your sex takes me to paradise…”

Finally.

open a book. turn the page.

For the past 11 months, my notebooks have been in a suitcase locked away. Not the ones that are in my handbag filled with blue ink, of course. But my history.

I took such an emotional and psychological beating over a three year period, that I shut off one of the most important parts of me. Sure there’s a lot of my words floating around here on this site, but they aren’t inky.

Ink is and will always be what flows through my veins. My blood line. For awhile my life really dried up, for reasons too vast to phrase.

Considering I was married when I was 25 until close to 35, my adult life was really fueled byIMG_2831 a relationship. My ex-husband never understood how he impacted my word art. He never gave a shit, to be frank, which is just another reason I left him 10,000 miles behind me.

The collection of tepid lovers I’ve acquired over the past few sets of months may have inspired a poem or story, nothing earth shattering. Certainly nothing soul shaking.

Then, about three weeks ago, I met someone who completely changed my life. I don’t stop thinking about him. I tap my fingers and bop my toes thinking of where we’ll go next; what flowers I’ll bring him; the sound of his voice or spark of his touch.

And finally, this morning, I opened my suitcase of notebooks. First, I cried. Not a lot, just a little. Then I called Anthony to tell him what he inspired of my morning.

I can’t even begin to get into what’s in these books. Aside from my literal life from about 2001 forward, the poetry and stories and ideas are some of my personal favorites. I simply flipped a few pages here and there. I know how my weekend will be spent.

Praises to all things divine for finally turning my page. It’s been years. I couldn’t be more grateful.

for real for real

Namaste blog tribe

Happy Friday all! I think I fell in love again this week. Since being out of a ten year marriage over five years now, I realize I fall in love a lot.

I had a conversation with Rijn about this during her visit, we agreed it’s the Poet in me. Poets are always falling in love, when else can you really write poetry?

I don’t think it’s hard to fall in love, it’s maintaining it that’s the trick. To do that, it has to be a perfectly balanced relationship. I’ve never had that. However, there’s a new love who fell from the sky three days ago who seems unique and wonderful and makes me feel peaceful and erratic at the same time. Continue reading

your girl

Namaste blog tribe

IMG_2519She won… of course she won…

It feels like yesterday that I was stomping the streets of Berlin with one of my favorite people in the world, the one and only – Ms. Rijn Collins. Whether we’re having French food cocktail nights in the western suburbs of Melbourne or clinking celebratory cocktails at the Waldorf Astoria on Park Avenue, as we did yesterday, there are no words to encompass my love for this woman. Continue reading

riding boats and breaking hearts

Namaste blog tribe

So I dumped the Frenchman. We parted with respect to irreconcilable differences. He’ll always be the lover who brought me gifts every time we were together and made me art when we were apart. I’ll think of him fondly.

Considering the amount of acquaintance-ships I’ve had that end hideously, that’s something special.  IMG_2300

In other news, I spent eight weeks recently floating on a boat. I sailed down the eastern seaboard, around a few islands, then back up to the city where I continue to freeze. Part of my love affair with Australia is based on the Queensland weather; but there are so many other parts. One part, who in fact, will be arriving on my doorstep in just a tad over 24hours.

My recent spat of heart breaking and boat riding taught me a few things. Considering that I feel all I can ask from of life is knowledge – this will appease me for awhile. I’m looking very forward to my next excursion to Tahiti, where I will isolate myself in an over water hut and write until my fingers fall off.

Bliss…

In the meantime, I’ll be sorting out my writer’s cave for when one of the people I love more than anything arrives shortly. And it’s for a veeery special event.

 


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