the world and words of a writer

gretchen is a writer floating between australia and manhattan

Category: blog (page 1 of 205)

salt water. poetry processing.

My unplugged-ness lusciously carries on. I’ve been considering my options to get a typewriter. While I always prefer writing by hand, I’ve been having daydreams about old school clacks and inky ribbons.

My husband is in Spain. While I’m waiting for him to return, I’ve been in the water. Mainly salt water. I’ve also been in the pool a few hours a day. My favorite times are at night, floating on a raft beneath a waxing moon.

My thoughts are poetry, that’s how I assess my health. When I’m at my best, I literally think in poems. Avoiding the internet and glowing screens naturally nourishes this process.

I’d like to produce a new poetry book. After purging three publications in three years, I’ve kept my work between leather bound covers spilt in blue gel ink.

I’ll probably get around to this once we’re on the island…

Saying I feel relaxed or centered are both ultimate understatements. I am beyond words. I am finally back to floating.

After realizing my first husband was evil, I had the most amazing period of proving how I never needed him in the first place. As a hopeless romantic, I adore needing my current husband now and completely forever.

… the real one.

As he so eloquently stated to me earlier today:

No puedo estar sin ti…

… and I curled my toes and thought in poetry.

lucid. unplugged. disconnect.

“Yo puedo hacerte feliz…”

I met my husband 29 June 2017. Halfway through our first date, breakfast at a French cafe’ on east 44th street in midtown Manhattan, he leaned across the table while I blushed crossing and uncrossing my legs (both of us dressed to the New York City nines, suits and frocks at 7am) and he stated, quite plainly in a husky, cigar-smoking Spanish accent that I drank like a green smoothie…

“I can make you happy.”

“… yo puedo hacerte feliz.”

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New Year’s!

Being in my presently small pocket of Earth, we celebrate New Year’s third… after Samoa and New Zealand.

Following a completely relaxed build up to the fireworks that I watched off the mansion deck last night… I just gobbled twelve grapes as a tradition while my Spanish husband and I rang in Spain’s new year. I currently await the Times Square ball to drop before we toast once more.

My final day of 2018 was lush. The puppies and I went to the ocean, frolicked in the park and basked in the Australian summer sun. I prepared a five star hotel breakfast that was gobbled with mimosa compliments on my waterfront terrace… before spending the afternoon buried in a book of short stories; part of which was read in a coconut bath bomb spa bath next to an open window overlooking the lake.

I scribbled down my 2019 promises and mantras in a red leather bound book that has nearly run out of pages. I’ll require a new journal over the coming weeks.

Last year was a bit of a shit show… it’s not easy transporting two babies from Manhattan to Australia all on your own. $12,000 later, we made it. Then it was onto job, house, resettlement, etc…

This year, 2019 (my year), I’m remixing everything. When I came back to Australia, it wasn’t to continue my stint as a super fancy executive writer, I already lived that bit.

My perception is that life is short. I’d like to live as many lives as I possibly can in this round of years I’m walking. I have been reborn and remixed consistently my entire life every 5 to 7 years.

And I adore that…

In 2018 I turned 40 (hollah at your girl…); so I’m officially walking into my second half of existence. And the only thing I could possibly wish for, is for everything to be different. Not because I haven’t indulged in every day leading to now… I just don’t want to be ordinary or predictable.

I never want anyone to say, “Oh, Gretchen Cello… the poet… the New Yorker… the executive… the blah blah…”

I want to live new each breath. So much newness has my fingertips tingling at the moment. 2019 seems like the perfect ballroom to dance the next routine.

Happy New Year’s blog family. One love. 3 x 3 x 3

mansion life. sun up. sun down.

Living in a mansion for the past six months has been a new solar system after tucking myself into stacks of midtown Manhattan apartments for eights years.

I have a reading room, a writing room and an outdoor sanctuary for swimming, sun bathing and word spinning. It’s a far cry from my beloved farm house where I was dwelling back in 2009 when FollowMeToNYC took shape.

Lately I’ve been reflecting a lot. When the sun goes up until when it drops. Then I usually float on my back in the pool and the stare at the stars for awhile.

My six months back in Australia have been divine. The past few years have been mind blowing, and as I roll into 2019 to celebrate ten years of this blahg… that’s a whole lot of life that went down.

I’m a firm believer that creatures don’t really change. Experiences differ, so I guess we roll through them as we may, but when it comes to your center to you being YOU – your own unique piece of Us, if you will…. I don’t reckon much changes.

When I started this page I needed a voice after being neglected by an emotionally abusive partner for a couple of years too many. I built a comfy corner and complimented it with social connections and endeavors to grow an audience and interact.

Truth is, I’m not really that type of creature. One of my traits as a born Writer is despising glowing boxes (television, phones, digital everything) and embracing solitude. Finding my own path to wander where I can listen to my inner voice, how I connect with the life I live, and making language paintings remains my one true passion.

I originally came to Australia in 2002 because it’s about as far from New York City as you can get, an entirely different planet to where I’m from. I returned this year for the same reason.

I’m awaiting my husband’s orders which are going to result in me being swooped up and lifted to Western Australia in a literal blink. Yet another new land where I have never lived but always dreamed.

That’s when the next chapter officially starts.

merriest merry

Merry Christmas blog tribe. I hope everyone ate too much and was showered in gifts. My nemesis over the past few days has been goat cheese stuffed cherry tomatoes and more champagne than I could accurately recall.

Coming from Spain, my husband made the biggest seafood paella I have ever seen and we guzzled sangria like it’s my job.

Speaking of jobs… I can’t say how wonderful not working has been. The last time I had all of my time to myself was 2009/2010 when I first fired up this blahg and was finding my way back to Manhattan. I published three poetry books back then, wrote and shot a short film, scribbled out a couple of other scripts, and even played YouTube a bit which I’ve since destroyed.

Though I’m contemplating firing up a new one…

I spend my days walking my dogs, loving my man, editing / writing / pondering, swimming in the sea, laying in the sun, cooking European feasts, hiding out, meditating and literally being blissful.

When I first started whispering to my tiny inner circle about my man moving us over to a military base on the Indian Ocean where I can sit on my front porch, stare at the waves and spill stories… I received back a few, “Gee, not working? Aren’t you going to be bored?”

To this I responded something like, “HAHAHAHAHAHAAHA….” (pause, gasp, wipe eye tears) “HAAAAAAAAAAA!” Prior to concluding with, “Ummm, no. Nope. I won’t be bored.”

Independently supporting myself as a Writer in some of the most expensive neighborhoods on earth while I was in Manhattan for eight years was tremendously satisfying. Anyone who came to visit me can tell you how I was living.

And let me tell you… I was liv-in.

Now, I just want to chill. Having turned 40 in September, walking into the second half of my life — I am more than happy to have someone take care of me. I spent 20 years paying bills, covering rent, grinding grinding grinding. Having only now stopped, about a month ago, there’s no words for how relaxed I feel.

It’s the first time in my life since I was a kid living with my parents that anyone is going to take care of me.

We’re hanging out waiting for the official order. Once it comes, the puppies, myself and my man will be picked up and plopped on the west coast quicker than you can say, “Yes, please.” Or as my husband would say, “Porfavor…

Wrapping up this year is more symbolic to me thank I can express. Perhaps I can have a go when I start publishing my next set of poetry books.

… considering my time is mine now. The new life I sought when I left Manhattan starts now. I couldn’t be more pleased.

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