The Art of Writing 2013

I believe that during our past week in the Casentino mountains with Lisa Clifford and James Friel during our Art of Writing writers retreat we learnt a lot about ourselves as well as about writing.

 In one of our lessons on I was struck by our wonderful tutor, Jim Friel’s, comment that we all carry a fabulous book of experience and memories around with us all the time – our own bodies!

This truth was brought home to me somewhat painfully before the end of the week as I acquired yet another scar and another story , in, of all places , the safety of my own bedroom.

One of the things you need to understand about Casentino is that there is no such thing as light pollution – you could easily guide yourself home by the stars.   It is as bright as it could possibly be in an area where there is no artificial light surrounding your house at night, but ,  in the silent darkness of a shuttered bedroom you might as well be blind.

I woke to the knowledge of an imminent pain – a violent cramp was working it’s way up my shin – and the only way to stop myself from crying out and waking the entire household was to leap from my bed and get my foot flat on the floor. This manoeuvre was a great success – arms outstretched , I managed a few rounds of the  bedroom without noise or incident and the cramp finally relaxed.

Time to go back to bed…

Not so easy! In the deep darkness I forgot that I was sleeping in a bunk bed and the crash of my skull against the wooden top layer must have reverberated across the top floor of the house – How do you make a silent “Ow! Ow!“?

Nonetheless still trying to keep silent , I turned round to sit on the bed and nurse my poor forehead – or so I thought, until I felt the side of the mattress slide from under me as I crashed to the ground – and another pain to contradict the original cramp into insignificance , as my arm grazed against the bedside table and I landed, with an undignified thump, on the bedroom floor.

After finally feeling my way safely back into the bed I reviewed the last painful few moments in the third person (another creative idea suggested by Jim) and the very concept of this crazy lady ricocheting across the bedroom crashing into every obstacle make me giggle out loud.  I found myself with my smile pressed against the pillow as, yet again, I tried not to awaken my sleeping colleagues, – this time with my almost hysterical giggles.

This evening, at home in Florence, I have taken an inventory of the damage:-

• bruise on forehead – yep – not too bad and hidden by fringe!
• black bruise and graze on left shoulder – swelling a little – but hidden by clothing!
• black bruise and graze on left leg – going yellow now should be gone by weekend
• long red scar on left arm – not pretty – but twill do for remembrance

But, you know what?

I wouldn’t have missed the experience of the Art of Writing in the mountains of Casentino for all the world!