Plant Dreaming Deep: A Journal
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
In Plant Dreaming Deep, Sarton shares an intensely personal account of transforming a house into a home. She begins with an introduction to the enchanting village of Nelson, where she first meets her house. Sarton finds she must “dream the house alive” inside herself before taking the major step of signing the deed. She paints the walls white in order to catch the light and searches for the precise shade of yellow for the kitchen floor. She discovers peace and beauty in solitude, whether she is toiling in the garden or writing at her desk.
This is a loving, beautifully crafted memoir illuminated by themes of friendship, love, nature, and the struggles of the creative life.
This ebook features an extended biography of May Sarton.
whatever I had managed to say was being considered with the utmost attention. Always I felt that the intention, at least, had fallen on fertile ground. The response was in character. Mildred, always articulate, often carried the poem a step farther, gave it a surprising, original insight of her own which might send me back to make a revision. Quig reacted with that feeling silence which is the accolade every poet longs to receive. He was easily moved but never superficially moved, and utterance
new Mercury convertible and the promise of fifty dollars a month to help me along, and I set out alone on an autumn, winter, and spring of unhurried exploration. There were considerable gaps between engagements when my funds ran low, but then I holed in somewhere and wrote poems—ten unforgettable days in Eureka Springs, Arkansas; three weeks in New Orleans, where I managed to find a boardinghouse for eleven dollars a week, meals included. The whole trip was not at all what a lecture trip usually
had committed some crime, “there’ll be no hard feelings. You’ll always be welcome at our house.” By this time I’m as nervous as he is and prepared to pay out a fortune, considering what has been accomplished. He then hands me an itemized bill with every hour accounted for, and I am abashed to see how little it turns out to be after all. Why all this fuss? Now and then the myth-making inner world swells up and floods all sense of reality. It is as if an enraged bear were loose inside Perley, and
adventures every day. It may be that a porcupine has climbed high up into an elm and eaten the bark off all the top branches; it may be that a litter of baby rabbits has been born, or a new calf; it may be that the iris is in flower in the pond where muscovy ducks and white geese paddle about so happily; it may be that Sally’s sweetpeas are out—there is always something for Gracie to show me in this “Farm of Contented Animals,” as it is so aptly named. The Warners help me just by being there.
happening, for two or three days, my own place looks like the real farm it once was, and is no longer. The day begins with the arrival, as like as not, of Gracie riding one of the big work horses bareback, with one or two small children behind her on his fat rump. She is followed by Bud and Helen in the old truck, hauling the hay rake behind them. Doris rides the other work horse down, attracting in her wake four or five children, like a Pied Piper. I have pails of water ready for the horses,