Day 3: Wednesday at the Studio Center

Today was harder. I'm unpacked, settled in, yet....unsettled inside my own head.

I had to choose 9 pages for the visiting poet to look at and the task was so so big. I stood, in tears, looking at my work pinned to my wall. Feeling little. I wanted to impress and yet I also want help with a few pieces and that is valuable too. So? I threw a pen at the wall like a dart and the ones it hit, went in the pile.

Then I picked them up and pinned them back to the wall. I have to be more practical. So I picked out different ones. 15 minutes to the deadline, no stapler to be found, I bobby pinned the pages and ran them over to the main building.

It was snowing. Let me tell you, the snow here is polite. It's sweet and fluffy like baby ducks, or a snow globe wonderland. In Iowa snow starts out freezing rain, turns to daggers, and then tries to splinter your bones from the inside out. And that's before the wind jumps in the fray. In Iowa snow tears you up. In Vermont, snow tickles and teases.

I made it to the main millhouse offices and overheard the admin telling an applicant on the phone about the waiting lists and applicant pool. Thousands. Thousands of artists apply to come. As per my usual oblivious self, I had no idea. Actually I applied thinking I would never get in. As you can imagine, overhearing this, sent me to puddle state again. Seriously? How did I get in here?

At dinner someone asked me how I was settling in and all of this spilled out. She laughed. Everyone feels like this? It's cute.

Sigh of relief. And now to get to work. Grateful for the universe answering my yoga pants and latte plea for a fix to the chaos and pain that was my life a year ago. Seriously. Go out and stand under this wishing moon and see what happens next......