The bag we were given to carry our books and papers.
From June 18 until June 21 I ran away--to a hotel across town--where I was immersed in workshops, lectures, poetry, music, conversations and lots of writing. The conference itself was amazingly stimulating, but for me--and 13 other participants- the experience was two-fold. For over 10 years 34 people have known each other primarily through a closed online list which split off from a journal writer's list that had become unmanageable due to its size and volume of posts.
This group has written together through 9/11, deaths of loved ones, illnesses and recovery, marriages and divorces, celebrations and grievings. However, until this conference, only groups of 3 or 4--usually regional--had met each other in person. This was the largest number of our group that had met face to face. We ate most meals together and talked together every free moment. It was a delightful reunion. Below is a photo of some of the group.
The first of the group to arrive. Six more joined us the next morning.
My head is still floating with words and stories of journal keepers from all over the world. I come home dreaming of the possibilities of writing memories and capturing stories.