Friday, August 6, 2010

When one road closes....

You know the old saying, "Close a window. Another window opens."  And so on.  I'm saying that now.  Time to close the blog. 

Time to set the Wayfarers free to explore new paths on the Artist's Way or new paths off the Artist's Way. Viv and I have talked. (It turns out there's this crazy thing that's not on the Internet.  It's called "The Phone."  Cool.) We agree it's time for us to move on.  I have a lot of baby blogs in the Blogger nursery, not to mention about three novels on life support.  Viv has a couple of URLs ready to go.

I know -- because I have heard from several of you -- that your paths are diverging through the summer.  And your creative souls are as rich as ever they were.  Merely a little diverted... like mine.

Now, when I say "close the blog," I do not mean "kill the blog."  As far as I know, the blog will be right here and fully operational for possibly years and years.   Feel absolutely free to come here and read the old posts or leave a new post. 

I'll drop by from time to time to see if weeds are popping up through the pavement.  Did you ever see that show, "Life After People"? It's a vivid demonstration of how the dust bunnies would REALLY multiply if all the folks on earth left for some unknown reason.  Anyway, I think our little blog may soon get overgrown with vines and have zoo animals roaming around in it.  (Which would be different, how?  I hear you.)   But it will still be here.  For the Blogger version of Forever, however long that may be.

I'm building a new blog that's not all about the AW.  It's called Lake E and I intend it to be kind of a journal, kind of an exploration, kind of an excuse to keep writing.  It's at  Right now, it's an empty lot.  Later, we'll see. 

For now, I have to say this has been great for me.  You've been great, all you Artist's Wayers, from January right on till August.  Isn't that fine?  Take a minute to consider one fabulous thing you've learned about yourself in 12 weeks or 24 weeks or a week and a half.  Whatever it's been for you. 

You have absolutely everything you need to continue whenever the road calls to you.  The Book.  A pen.  Or pencil.  A notebook.  Or just paper.  Or just a blank wall and a crayon. A scrap of fabric.  A keyboard.  A knitting needle (or two.)  Whatever.  And you have your Artist.  Waiting to go on a date with you.  Standing right there.  (She's got your back and you are NOT Sandra Bullock.  So, lucky you.) 

I have your back, too.  You can take the Sherpa off the mountain, but you can't take the mountain .... rats.  What does that mean?  That doesn't work.  I hate it when cliches don't pan out.  That's their job.  To always pan out.  Rats. Rats.

At any rate, you have me.  My phone number.  My email address.  My absolutely forever promise to support your creativity in any way I can.  Let's stay in touch.  Or get back in touch.  Let's share our projects.  Our plans and goals.  Our promises.  Our blood oaths. Our vacation schedules, our recipes for panna cotta.  Really.  I count you all among my very best and most valued friends.  I get tremendous strength and encouragement simply from knowing you're in the world.  Let's stay in touch.  And whatever I can do to boost you along your path, let me know.

Let's give Bilbo Baggin's the last word.  I love him.  And you.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.



  1. Goodbye, Artist's Way blog! We, the members of the Lurker Community salute you! Godspeed!

  2. Technical difficulties -- my first comment went crashing into the ethernet... as I was saying

    Don't like goodbyes. But as all good things must come to an end, I guess it's time to act on good intentions to build another site.
    Thanks to all, for being here, wherever you may be on this road. And especially thanks to Annie, our sherpa, trailblazer, baggage schleper, hostess, gardener, writer in residence, student of the "Way" and good friend.

    Oh yes, because I tend to be stubborn as a weed (the kind with stubby leaves and woody roots that are hard to pull) you might still find me cropping up here and there, scribbling posts from time to time. And in the meanwhile, you can find my brief musings on books at -vhenoch

  3. Glad you're stubborn as a weed, Viv. You can poke up through the concrete on this blog any old time. You've been stalwart in sharing your thoughts and your talent here. I read your review of Tinkers at notingbooks, and, lady, I'm not "the only real writer" you know. Finding an audience of substance on the Net is a tough row to hoe, but I say we give it a shot. When I get Lake E up and running, you can be my first "guest poster."

  4. Yesterday-- waiting for Mal to finish a cycling event just outside of Madison WI-- I roamed the grounds of the Olbrich Botanical Gardens. Spectacular even in the rain. Worth the drive, if you've never seen it. Famous for the gift of a Thai Garden -- no, not the food, a gold pavilion, shimmering under a grey sky, and dazzling as the sun came out. Took a bunch of photos, thinking of your new blog venture. Will share. And yes, thank you for the invite and kind words.
    Just finding our way . . .

  5. I have a pretty distinct sense of when I chose the not-an-artist path in grad school. I've had regrets, but most of the time am at peace with it. I think my knitting obsession is a way to keep the pilot light going without heating up the whole room. It's so good to know you all are out there, ready to welcome a wanderer back to the campfire. You're the best Sherpa a girl could have, Annie! Thanks for being there. One of these days ...