Thursday, October 31, 2013
I know it's been a while since my last blog entry but this time there is a reason. I just haven't wanted to write. Well, actually, I've been afraid to write. My life is currently going through a swirl of change and it's taking all of my energy and mental capacity to stay focused on matters at hand.
At the moment I am sitting in my home in New Boston, Texas, looking out the window wall at the gorgeous 25 acres of land. The grasses are wild and colorful and I see leaves flying off trees. The sky is pale blue in some places and gray in others. Every so often the sun breaks through the gray and shines on the earth. It's a beautiful sight and I am committing it to memory.
Lately a few of the neighbor's cows have escaped through a break in the fence and have wandered onto our property. I love those crazy cows, especially the calf that walked up the driveway and lounged under the pecan tree. There are several new calves next door and I think they're sweet. I am committing them to memory.
I am sitting on the couch in the living room at the moment. The gorgeous fireplace is in front of me. It has never had a fire in it but it will this winter. The logs on the hearth are still encased in their plastic wrapping, waiting for a day cold enough to light them. As much as I hate to be cold, I hope we get a wintry day soon so I can see a fire in that fireplace. It's a see-through fireplace between the living room and the kitchen and it's going to look magical. I need to see a fire in it. I want to commmit it to memory.
I am thinking of all of the yummy Mexican foods my husband has made for me since I moved to Texas. That man will put anything in a tortilla. Once he made me a bologna burrito. It was good! Who knew? I love the way he puts avocado, cottage cheese and regular cheese on everything, plus a lot of salt and hot sauce and red pepper flakes and spicy seasonings. He makes a dish called entomatillos (I think this is how you spell it) which is nothing more than chopped up corn tortillas fried in a little oil with a couple of small cans of tomato sauce poured over it, some salt and cheese over the top. So good and so easy. I am committing these tastes and smells to memory.
Memory is the process in which information is encoded, stored and retrieved: You receive and process information, then create a permanent record of that information and put it away in the recesses of your subconscious and one day, when you need it, you call it back to your conscious mind and use it as you see fit.
Time and Memory are like a married couple perfectly matched. Time creates Memory while Memory lives on in Time. I am Time. And I am committing Memory to memory.
I apologize for the dark tone of this blog post. I am feeling melancholy and wistful these days but I know (thanks to Time), that this, too, shall pass.
Before I forget, The Shadow King should be out in November. I am rushing to get it out into the world. Time is of the essence and there are many loose ends to tie up in my writing life. I have put aside my Crescent trilogy for the time being because another, more pressing writing project has presented itself to me. It is a memoir with the working title of Fairy Tale (the title will eventually change) and it is about my sojourn in Texas. It begins in Ohio, moves on to Texas and ends in a whole new world. Stay tuned.