rem·i·nisc·ing = to recall past experiences, events, etc.; indulge in reminiscence.
Is what I have been doing this past month, after returning to Europe from the USA, where I got to spend one whole month as a literary translator in a Writer’s Residency at this marvelous place called Art Omi, in Ghent, NY.
For thirty days I was surrounded by soothing and relaxing nature, inspired by kindred spirits, living in the well-organized and incredibly friendly intellectual bubble of Ledig House and its cottages, accompanied by writers and translators from everywhere, who became friends too. This four-week period was in fact quite a stretch as it was spent so far away from my beloved ones for so long, but I wouldn’t have want to miss out on it. And my beloved ones were game.
What amazed me, among so many other things, was the sensation of privilege that exists when one is nurtured beyond expectation. We were living there as chosen ones, and of course we were, in fact, chosen. But nothing prepared me for the level of attention, helpfulness, dedication and support that I experienced at this very special spot in the world, which is hidden in the Architecture fields and Sculpture park of Art Omi.
What a relief to know that places like this exist.