The Flow of Creation

Peace settles over me in the most soothing way when I venture into the Blue Ridge mountains.  The trek up here always ignites a fire in me (and my accelerator).  I love riding the curving mountain roads, and these days my GPS provides a new perspective, disclosing the upcoming hairpin turns.  What fun!

Once I'm here, I relax and sink into the green mountains and fresh tree-oxidized air.  Everything feels new and fresh and familiar and old at once.

From this place, I write, finding that the words flow with little effort.  So each year, I agree to the excursion and pack my writing materials, good books for inspiration, and a plan to write.

Some of my best material began in these mountains, ideas that unroll like they spill down the side of a mountain and into my innermost creative thoughts.  I would stay here longer if I could, but reality claims me and soon I must go.

Until then, I will write and breathe and live the joy of creation.

Where do you escape to write?  What places inspire you or give you the fresh perspective that completes you?


Bob Strother said…
I wrote one of my first stories while at the beach, sitting on a screened-in porch, watching a squadron of pelicans, and sipping on a cold glass of Chardonnay. Another came while I was riding back from Flagstaff with my wife, stepdaughter, and grandson in tow, and Sponge Bob Square Pants playing on a portable DVD player. I think I must escape into my head. Sometimes. it's the only place to go.
Anonymous said…
Have a wonderful, creative time!

Anonymous said…
I feel the same way when I go to the mountains! I am saving your material for the beach next week! Cant wait!-Christina T.
Bob, I know what you mean. I've written in planes, doctor's waiting rooms, coffeeshops, and airport terminals. I've written quite a lot at the beach, too. When the muse comes, I can't deny it, but I sure love the inspiration that the mountains give me... and the peace and quiet.
Valerie said…
Mountains are wonderful. When I go to the beach, I want to loll in the sun, swim, and read books, not write them. When I'm in the mountains, I write.
Steve Gordy said…
It may sound creepy, but on a recent trip to the Northeast, I visited Grove Street Cemetery in New Haven, Connecticut; I went to pay my respects to some of my profs from grad school. I found it was an atmosphere highly conducive to thought. Of course, the problem is trying to get back there whenever I need a moment of inspiration.

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