From a Big Sur writing retreat
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My coffee overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Rain drenched Big Sur coastline. Soupy slate blue sea smashing against the craggy, fog covered edge of California. Smeared across Esalen are crowds. Milling quietly to and fro. Nervous energy in the air, but it could be just me. It probably is just me. Tried to write in
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I know I am excited. I know I think about it every single day. I know I can’t wait. At the same time, I fear it will go by so fast that it’ll be over before I know it. Or it will be so alien to how I think I’ll leave with no real idea
Patrick Whitehurst 