Tomorrow begins a long trek: driving my girls 6 hours to my sister-in-law’s place, catching a red eye to Newark, connecting to Boston. Then it’s a train ride to Cambridge, where I’ll graduate from a low-residency MFA program at Lesley University. So I guess, really, tomorrow begins the end of a long trek. Two years of deadlines and 9-day residency reprieves. Of wonderful community and the beauties of clustered used book stores and neighborhood Victorian architecture.
I’ll miss it.
In one of the first seminars I attended, the instructor, Anita Riggio, warned us not to think for one moment that this program wouldn’t absolutely change us. Because it would.
Nah, I thought. I’m good.
I’d hoped to pick up some writing tips. Make a few friends who liked to read. Nothing so pesky as changing my life. But it did. These two years at Lesley have absolutely changed me. Broadened, prodded, pressed, and refined me.
The conclusion of school is partly why I’ve begun this blog. To keep the change rolling. The conversation going–even if it’s just with myself.
the hurl and gliding 