Being in Winston-Salem, NC, yesterday, having my coffee at Washington Perk, Annie Woodford’s poem, and book of the same name, “Where You Come From is Gone”, came to mind. Winston feels like one of the places I come from.
A new life, a new home, started here when I left West Virginia behind. And just like the title, that Winston is gone in many ways, just like my hometown of birth in the mountains is gone.
Environments are dynamic, evolve. New contexts, contrivance of projected meaning appear, ready to fall away and be replaced over and over and over. Nostalgia does not serve you well, when moving on is the better course.
And it’s way more fun that way.
Cheers!
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3 responses to “Winston-Salem”
I’ve been chewing on this one for several days, waiting for the words to come. But apparently the words are not forthcoming, so I just want you to know I’ve been chewing on this one. It meets me. Thank you.
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Perhaps there will be a grok without words, and you’re welcome.
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Wordless grok! Yes. That’s it.
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