Resurrected, in bright sun at Big Mac
It's about time I check back in and clarify that I am still here and still alive and, on this eve of Easter, I'm feeling somewhat resurrected myself after a long, hard winter. I'm 25 pounds lighter, emotionally re-adjusted and physically purged. And apparently back to almost full health.
And just got back from a sweet writing gig at Finlandia University in Hancock, in the UP. I'm writing this from a motel room on the strip in St. Ignace -- where it's blessedly quiet in this off-season weekend. My hosts at Finlandia were wonderful; the audience in the chapel for my Thursday talk and reading was attentive and literate. Thanks to Suzanne for arranging everything and to Lauri Anderson for the picnic ham, beans and pecan pie around the kitchen table.
They put us up in a quirky little guest house on the campus where we pushed two metal single beds together in the hot top floor bedroom for one of the best night's sleeps we've had in ages. The next day Suzanne took us for a drive to McLain Park, where we stepped over piles of late ice in the sand and soaked in the brilliant sun -- a bright liquid light that is different than Flint. Then on to Calumet, where we paid tribute to the arch of the Italian Hall, all that remains of the Christmas Eve tragedy when 73 were killed, trampled and suffocated on the staircase after somebody criminally yelled "Fire." I love the architecture in the old mining towns -- that orange sandstone that doesn't crumble.
I feel like I reclaimed a bit of my writing mojo in the UP -- a fine place to do it -- and I'm very grateful.
The Opera House in Calumet
The Arch of the Italian Hall, Calumet
Ice on the Beach at McLain Park, Hancock
The soft or shrill voice within us
7 years ago