This poem I’m working on is under a lot of pressure to be clever. Sorry poem. This is how it has to be…
Early last Friday morning, I embarked on a solo adventure to Concord, Massachusetts to visit all of the literary locations that I had been dying to visit for many years. While there, I stayed at the Hawthorne Inn, run by two of the most genuine kind people I’ve ever met.
It all started with the drive. I rented a car because my own car struggles to get me from my every day normal point A to point B. So once that was done, I took off. I waved goodbye to Jersey, and drove to Concord. Let me tell you, the drive alone sparked so many ideas. There’s something about knowing that you’re on the road for so many hours that creates this great imaginative bubble. In the picture above you can see the pencil that I used to write while I was driving. Don’t worry, there was traffic… 😉
After a little under five hours of driving I arrived in Concord. Right from the beginning, I felt at home. Everything about the town was lovely and quaint. Then the real adventures began.
This library melted my heart.
Pictured above was the best meal of my life, eaten at 80 Thoreau. The next day was action packed. I finally made it to Walden Pond after years of dreaming about it.
“If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them.” -Henry David Thoreau
But by far, the highlight of my trip, was visiting Jack Kerouac’s grave in Lowell. I felt so empowered and connected while there.
“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.” ― Jack Kerouac
Visiting Emerson’s house was another highlight, but seeing his study in the museum was even better.
“Make your own Bible. Select and collect all the words and sentences that in all your readings have been to you like the blast of a trumpet.”-Ralph Waldo Emerson
My stay at the inn was one of the best experiences of my life. I was able to spend a lot of time writing which felt so good. I do a lot of writing while at home, but there’s something about being away that gives you a new perspective.
So I owe many thanks to the Hawthorne Inn, and I truly can’t wait to go back.
Until next time,