Sunday, July 04, 2010
Some of you may remember my fascination with Crescent Dragonwagon, about whom I have written several times, including here and here.
Dragon, as she calls herself, briefly attended the same high school I did, although I can't say I knew her. Tremendously colorful and mysterious, she remained my most unforgettable character for decades. In the mid-80s, I ran across her work via the suggested reading list for a curriculum product I was editing. In 1993, she popped up again in various articles about Bill Clinton's inauguration. In 2002, my brother-in-law gave me Passionate Vegetarian as a Christmas gift. In 2008, I came across her blog, Nothing Is Wasted on the Writer.
Her presence is a recurring theme/dream.
Crescent runs a workshop called Fearless Writing. For years now, I've longed to attend one. I'm finally back at work on a "real" project these days. My biggest issue, as always, is the uncertainty, the not knowing where the story is going. Thus we circle back to Crescent and her workshop and fearlessness.
My major freelance client offers a monthly grant to help writers realize their dreams. I am not working today. I am not playing. Today, I am writing an application for the July grant. If I receive it, I will immediately sign up for the Labor Day edition of Fearless Writing. I will go to the Green Mountains of Vermont and meet Crescent again, for the first time. (She's changed. I've changed. We never really knew one another.)
In one way, this seems an impossible dream. In another, it feels like destiny. I can't know which is true. I can only write the best grant application possible and turn loose of the outcome.
Wish me luck.
* Green Mountains in fall. Photo from University of Vermont website