Image by Kevin Labianco via FlickrThe day has finally arrived and I am ready. I am packed, know how to get to my hotel, have an idea what I need to get tonight before class tomorrow and am mentally feeling like a ninja. I have plenty of writing to do during the bus ride so I feel my level of distraction make the trip fly.
The idea to go to New York for the fellowship was always on the top of my list. While others were looking overseas for artistic renewal, I remembered how every street in Manhattan could amaze and delight me. How the masses of people made me feel so secure and so at home at the same time.
Yes, I romanticize New York "out of proportion" to quote Woody Allen. I cut my teeth on movies that showed me its possibilities, not liabilities. But growing up in small town Iowa, how can you blame me? Iowa, the place of my upbringing was to me too homogenous and rigid as an artist, though being an Iowan has a place in my character formation. But coming to New York always feels in so in many way, like a real homecoming.
I remember going to an exhibit at the MFA in Boston and seeing Wright Morris' work; his work resonated with me and I remember my epiphany when I read his words about the Iowa that I knew as well as the Midwest in general. His quote, and here I paraphrase, was that in the Midwest, the world was endless horizontal lines, as opposed to New York, which was vertical.
The energy is different and I do anticipate mine will be as well at the end of this fellowship.
