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| Sam Shepard. A self-proclaimed Peripatetic Man. |
per·i·pa·tet·ic
ˌperēpəˈtedik/
adjective
Constantly on the move...
What is it about the writing life that makes us averse to spending too much time in one place, as if being tied down means total meltdown of our talent and our writing ability? I suppose there must be writers out there who like to stay home. Who enjoy the security of four walls, a fireplace, a clean bath, and three hot squares per day. But how creative are they? How productive? How happy?
Happy...
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| Jim Harrison who once said, if you feel as though you're writing with 16 ounce boxing gloves on, it's time to get out of the house, sometimes for months at a time. |
How happy is the Peripatetic Man? The lack of security. The four walls of a cheap motel room, the sound of paid-for sex banging against the wall that separates you from the space next door. The filthy bath with the shower drain that doesn't work. The occasional decent Denny's meal. The booze (Don't forget the booze...). The loneliness.
There's something invigorating about always being on the move. And sad too. Chasing your own tail for the sake of a tale or two. But I'm not sure a writer...a writer who matters after he's dead...can live any other way.
this is beautiful but i'm left wanting to read and know much more. more, please.
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