Centrum Journal, Part Three

I'm back, adding parts of the journal I kept during my stay at Centrum a couple of weeks ago.

* * *

17 March, 7:44 am. Birds, some blue sky, heavy clouds over Whidbey.

It feels weird not to go outside right now. It really is a nice way to wake up, going for a walk, and the spaces are so inviting. Being here, I’m really loving walking, and wasn’t ready to stop last night. But it was getting darker, and I was expecting rain. A few errant drops did hit, and the clouds were quite dark grey. But right now the tide is high, so I’ll wait for a while before going to the beach. I didn’t go there at all yesterday, instead walking the bunker trails. Apparently I haven’t finished seeing them. There are more, but as I said, it was getting dark, and the light wasn’t making for good photos. I’d love to find a map of it all, but then again, maybe it’s just better to stumble across the hidden bunkers unaided by extra info.

The seagulls are out, and probably there are deer lurking. I see those every day, either on the lawns, or in someone’s yard. It rained last night, but not as hard as I expected. Nothing looks really wet. I hear that back home the wind came, and broke two trees – a cedar up near the neighbor's, and a hemlock – in half. Also, another tree fell between another neighbor’s two driveways during the day. The wind here wasn’t quite so bad; not in the least. That would have been quite something to experience.

Retreating in the woods is very different from doing so in an open space like Fort Worden, with a view of the ocean’s expanse, the little ferry going to and from Whidbey, occasional barges, and right now, a little tug hauling something many times its size. The light is soft, nothing remarkable. Except that madrona tree out in the middle of the lawn (by the 1912 brick building) seems lit from within, and the light o the grass is nice. Now there are crows – no, I’m mistaken. What I mistook for crows, and one robin on a white van that’s been parked there since I’ve been here, are really the end pieces of a roof rack. But in looking again, the one on the front driver’s side that looked like a robin with its orangey breast, is now black. Maybe for a few moments, that really was real. Must have been.

Oh, looking again, not even a minute later, the light has brightened.

I’m not sure what’s happened to the neighbors (living in the bottom opposite apt.) have gone. I think I’m once again on my own. (There goes the little ferry again – all lit up).

Yesterday, I found a spot during my walk, a little trail heading off the paved road I was on to an aerial gunner site. I didn’t find any evidence of that, but there was a little bench on the bluff overlooking the water. The light there was amazing, and so was the view. Everything was all the more dramatic because of the light and the rain clouds moving in, so I was taking photos of the sky, and that’s how I spotted the eagle. Two, actually. They flew overhead a while, then headed north, I think. It was a feeling of blessing seeing them. In one of my photos I caught the wingtip feathers against the sky.

I’m not having significant dreams here. I wake up a lot, which is to be expected being in a new place. And, I’m not hearing the loud music and talking during the night that Annette mentioned. In a way, I’m disappointed not to have a ghost experience. But, maybe I shouldn’t complain. Then I’d really not get any sleep. I may have lost my ghost-magnet appeal in these last few years.

Tide’s going out, it seems. And I’m getting hungry. Must be time to eat a granola bar, and head to the beach for a short walk.

Yep, I’m now convinced that really was a robin, posing as a roof-rack support on that white van. That red breast is gone.

* * *

9 pm

I never made it to the beach, heading instead back up to the bunkers. I think I’ve seen the majority of what’s viewable to the public. This took me from about 8:30 until 10:15, when I returned, ready to try writing again. I took more photos, and used up my first photo card and second set of batteries.

Writing has been more successful today. Mostly revisions; I found some free writes from 1 May 2009, and have worked with all of those. There is, to my amazement, some usable stuff in each piece. Nice when that happens, especially when new work doesn’t seem to be forthcoming yet.

Craving bread since the afternoon, I went to Aldrich’s and got a loaf of seed bread, and another salad for my dinner. This hit the spot perfectly, and I also got some more chocolate. My wine has been a glass of mineral water laced with cranberry juice.

Themes I’ve seen in the poems I’ve worked on today: Our (house) fire, and my grandmother. One of those falls into the category of work I imagined I might focus on. I find it good not to invest to heavily on a plan; rather let what comes do its work. Then, if a pattern does arise, and it seems good, I can go with it. So far, so good.

My daily trip to the Commons to check email and internet stuff was thrown off today by the Commons being closed to entry. So, I sat outside in the windy sun, squinting at my almost unreadable screen. I got the job done, albeit quickly. Probably just as well; I can spend too much time doing stuff like that if it’s available. Because it was such a challenging experience, I packed it all in, and returned to the apartment.

I’m getting used to the apartment, too, and am becoming more comfortable in the space as I learn how best to use it. The bed is just fine. And I think I’m completely alone now, which suits me fine, too. No noises to distract me, no voices I’m compelled to listen to, to pick up some shred of recognizable conversation. Now, I think I’ll read a little; then it’s off to bed.

Okay, it’s 10:44 pm, and I’m still up. I just worked on the Satellite poem, trying to make each line end on a direct anagram. I’m really off to bed now! Still, good to be writing.

Centrum Journal, Part Two

15 March

I ended up sleeping in the Dark Room – the one with the wooden bed and dark floral bed spread. It rained pretty well last night, which suits me. The mattress is firm, and I feel pretty good. It just took me awhile to get to sleep, my heart was pounding. Mostly when I would lie on my left side. Switching to my right side I could barely hear it. My legs were aching, perhaps from Saturday’s walk to and from the Convention Center for Comic Con. And of course I was keyed up, first night here, after a few weeks’ anticipation.

When I woke up more seriously (I never sleep soundly the first few nights anywhere), it was just light. I got up for a few minutes, then decided as it was just before 7 am. I’d go back to sleep. That lasted five minutes. A look out the window at the growing light planted the desire to go for a short walk with the camera. I got dressed, and ate a banana.

My short walk lasted over two hours, and took me from the little brick rental house (Alexander's Castle), down the road to the beach, around the light house, along North Beach to a little community park, up a walking trail through the Madronas, and eventually back here by way of the Copper Canyon Press side of Fort Worden.

Best thing I could have done. I got hungry half way through, but decided to go “just a little further,” before heading back. I was thirsty, too.

The weird thing is accepting the fact that I’m on my own schedule. That’ll take some getting used to.

When I got back, about 9:30, the cleaning ladies had arrived, and are now downstairs. They vacuumed a little while ago, and are now doing other things. Occasionally I hear them talking. I might head over to the Commons as I have two manuscripts to send out, and I need the addresses for the envelopes. That’s the only real thing I need to do today, as both places – one is the Prairie Schooner Book Prize – have deadlines of 15 March. Today.

Then I may look into getting a little frying pan. I used the one large one for my scrambled eggs when I got back from my walk. I could also use a spatula. The large metal spoon doesn’t work so well. I should make a list.

Tentative List for When I Go Into Town:

1. Small frying pan

2. Spatula

3. Butter

4. Fruit

5. Something bread-like; crackers, maybe

6. Veggies

7. Three-prong adapter

These cleaning ladies are really noisy. I think they’re next door, now, in apt. C. Might be a good time to check out the Commons.

Same day, 5:46 pm

Tea water’s coming to a boil.

Back to Swain’s for a spatula, a larger water glass and a fifty cent coaster. Henery’s supplied me with a small frying pan, my “tea pot” (a Pyrex 4-cup measure), a packet of small dish clothes, another (better) spatula, and the three-prong adapter.

I mailed my two manuscripts: one to Prairie Schooner, and the other to Bellday Books. I like the Pt. Townsend Post Office – wonderful old woodwork and old metal mail slots. Even the post office boxes are interesting. And there was a line, probably a 15 minute wait.

My last stop was Aldrich’s, and I stocked up on bean soup mix (without the seasonings and high sodium content), organic chips and dip, just-made sushi, salad, and some fruit.

I’m now drinking tea made in my make-shift tea pot, and trying to get into a groove. This writing thing isn’t happening yet. I’ve been reading a little the book I received from Perugia Press by Jennifer Sweeney, How to Live on Bread and Music. It’s very good, and I find myself once again wondering why I can’t seem to write like that. Randomly I open the book and find the poem “How to Make a Game of Waiting.”

How to Make a Game of Waiting

This is a capsized game

and there is no display of aces at the end.

Buy a rare and expensive plant that never blooms.

Rearrange your books by the colors of their spines.

Bury all your keys that don’t unlock anything.

These are not rules but merely suggestions

of what has worked for others.

For instance, the man who painted landscapes

on his daughter’s sheet music.

Put a big rock on your desk.

Do not name the rock.

Take the numbers off the clock and mail them

to your creditors.

Stitch the hours onto a kite.

Every night, ask until you can hear what replies.

* * *

I need a good office chair. I need to settle down, sleep well. It’s still Monday. I know I’ve got time.

Centrum Journal, Part one

14 March 2010

Settling in. It feels strange. . .

It took awhile to get ready this morning, and I didn’t get out of the house until nearly three. Of course, I went back into the house three times; once to get my other shoes, then to toast an English muffin, and finally because I’d realized I still had the mail from the PO Box. . . Once I got going, I completely bypassed the turn-off to Port Gamble, and had to turn on Sawdust Hill Road, and get going in the right direction. And get gas. I’d forgotten that, too.

Once I got here, I stopped at the Centrum office and found my envelope with my housing assignment and the key, in the mailbox. I was surprised to find that I’m staying in the four-plex. My apartment is D.

I’ve got a kitchen, which is the first thing I see when I come in the (back) door. There is a front door, too, with a set of stairs leading up to the upper two apts., but I haven’t used those yet. My kitchen has a microwave, and small fridge, coffee pot and tea pot, plates, glasses, cookware, etc. Apparently, I don’t have to clean the place when I leave, according to the bulletin board on the wall next to the fridge. But I need to be reasonable, and take my garbage with me.

I reset the stove clock. There is a stove, too. I didn’t change the wall clock, not yet. It ticks. Hope I won’t mind this. Daylight time started today.

The dining area is next, with a nice little table and eight chairs. Table has room for six; the other two chairs lurk against the wall. The living room has a large cabinet which houses an old stereo, a couple of puzzles, and other oddments. There is a drawer with a torn journal, bits of paper, and on a shelf is a cup with three blue pens, and a pencil, and a couple of binder clips clipped to the rim.

There’s a leather chair and footrest, three glass tables, and padded bench, a large teal-y blue sofa (which could seat four, intimately), and the generous blue and white striped chair and ottoman I’m occupying right now. Two lamps, a pastel floral rug. Wood floors.

There is a nondescript bathroom with a leaky faucet. I tried to stop the drips, even turned off the water below, but the faucet still dripped. I closed the door. That seems to work.

Three bedrooms: two on the water side, one on the hill/blackberry bushes side. I haven’t completely claimed one yet. They all have their merits. I guess it will come down mostly to which bed is the most comfortable. I like the bed with the wooden head and footboard, but I’m not sure I like the room. It’s at the end of the hall. Not that that’s a bad thing. But, I do have the whole place to myself.

This makes me wonder if I’m alone in the complex, or if there is someone else staying here.

I had to go out (or so I thought) to get an adapter for my computer cord. All the outlets here are two-pronged, and my cord is three-pronged. I was wandering around anyway, a bit unsettled, so went to Swain’s for an adapter. I ended up getting a small extension cord, and stopped at McDonald’s for a burger and fries. Went the wrong way into the Safeway parking lot; parked and got two beers, some eggs, and fruit.

Turns out the extension cord is all two- prong, so I robbed the adapter from the microwave, which I hadn’t seen until I got back here. I’ll get another one tomorrow, maybe. I will need to use the microwave at some point, but not necessarily at the same time as the computer. Still, nice to leave the microwave adapter where it belongs.

Out one window (dining room side) it looks like rain. It’s about 6:51 pm, daylight time. Out the view window, it just looks like dusk. I can see the Hostel, an old white van, one of the white barracks buildings, the old brick building we sat near during one of our Grace Retreat outside discussions, the water with a small lighted ferry heading to Whidbey, and three or four grey cabins. I’d thought that being just one person I’d be staying in a cabin, but I guess not. I suppose this is okay. Being up here, I have a better view.

Now, I just need to allow myself to calm down into the mode of doing my work. Both times I was at Soapstone it took me a full two or three days to go through the process. And, I shared the place with someone. We had separate (but joined) cabins, had dinner together, and saw each other a bit during the day. Here, I’m on my own. Which is what I wanted. We’ll see how that feels by tomorrow.

I don’t want to put too many expectations on myself in the first day or so. I’ll read, walk, and do some revision. And calm down. There is a lot of excitement that leads up to a writing retreat, a lot of tying up of loose ends, getting ready, making sure I have all my files and other bits and pieces. Here, I’m not going be reading the comics daily. I won’t check the internet and my email whenever I want to. I can’t get internet from here. I’ll have to go to the commons or to Aldrich’s – somewhere there’s Wi-Fi.

In a way, I hope it is quiet here, that any neighbors I might have won’t make themselves readily obvious. I realize I could possible go through a day or days of total silence. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. And it might not happen here, either, but the possibility remains.

I need to do something different, so I’ll sign off for now.

PS—Its 11:24 now, and I’ve just wasted two hours, at least, playing mahjongg and Spider. And, it’s raining. It’s probably time to figure out what room I’m sleeping in.