Intermission
a creative coffee break from writing the play

Parked this morning at Day’s Espresso and Coffee House, where I am only occasionally setup with my pad, pen or laptop. I try to rotate my welcome at all the neighborhood coffee shops during the week. I was at Day’s yesterday, and I came back today because I needed some familiarity in my routine. While I love living here in Louisville, I am a little overwhelmed by the newness of everything. Each day brings a “first time” for the majority of experiences.

“Each day a new beginning” aside, I long for September in San Francisco, the quotation cards taped to the window of the yellow Victorian on Church Street, my elderly friend RS, with his beret on his head, stopping for a chat as I begin my walk to 24th Street, and he returns from his, the cat on Sanchez who always blinks at me as I pass by, the comprehensive magazine shop on 24th, and the coffee geeks who know my name. All the things, experiences, which are familiar, that have years of recurrence.

A couple of weeks ago, on the drive home from a weekend in Chicago, a new play began. The end of August, I had made a list of all the ideas nudging at me, wanting to be sculpted into plays, and this particular idea was almost an afterthought, near the bottom of the list. The play came in a rush, with one beat leading to another until I had what I call a rough scene sheet. This sheet contains notes of the images, and emotion that carry major scenes. The ending of this play came to me very clearly. When I can see and hear the final moment of a play, I know it’s time to write it. Usually plays mull for a period of months, some even for years, before the images become crystallized in my mind.

And so, I am writing the new play, amazed by its ferocity in spewing forth onto the page. There are elements which my Editor’s Mind balks at, trying to dictate other ideas or directions. I know my muse well enough by now, to go with where the story and the characters take me. They are usually right. My Editor’s Mind is usually wrong, wanting to go someplace familiar and safe. MBH wrote me recently, he was pondering two different paths for a play he was writing. He wrote, “both get me to the place I want, in different ways,” and he needed to decide which one. In my fashion, I couldn’t help but eWrite back, “pick the one that’s scariest path.”  That’s the best advice I give myself as well. When in doubt, choose to write about the thing that’s uncomfortable, that’s new, that’s scares the hell out of me because what will people think if I do that?

I always do that when I’m writing. Shove the Editor’s Mind aside, and choose the path that’s scary. You know scary, don’t you? It’s the thing in your stomach that churns when you are not in control.

Re-parked myself at a Cafe I’ve never been.

Enough of this avoidance now, I’m going back to writing the play.

I have resisted writing about what the move to Louisville has done to my writer’s routine. It should be obvious that any routine has long such been vanquished since we made the decision to pick up and leave San Francisco. I had a rarely unvaried routine there, writing every weekday morning. The only variance was which coffee shop I made my way to. Part of the joy of San Francisco is a coffee shop every four blocks.

I have resisted writing about routine because I was pondering whether everyday rituals are creative killjoys or necessary components to my creativity. After pondering for a couple of weeks, I realized the lack of coffee houses I could walk to was the source of said ponderance. The furthest is a Starbucks (a little over a mile), and a Highlands Coffee. Closer finds two Heine Brothers, and Day’s Espresso and Coffee. These add up to a mere five coffee hangouts. Well, jeez, my friends, in my last neighborhood I could walk to at least eleven. Okay, it’s not a real problem, and I’m over it. I will say I like the idea of Heine Brothers, as they serve organic, fair trade coffee. I just haven’t enjoyed writing in one yet. I will confess I am in love with Day’s Espresso shop so much that I don’t even mind when the woman behind the counter makes fun of my ordering an iced green tea. She thinks they taste bad. Go figure.

Having embraced that a routine is a necessary component to my creativity, I find my new routine is not much different than my old San Francisco one. Except it’s in Louisville. At fewer coffee houses. I get up, shower, dress, and get coffee’d up over some newspapers, because I don’t actually drink coffee in a coffee house. Then I take my backpack down the street to write at Day’s.

I love the mornings. The play is finding its way to the end.

My writer’s room at home is evolving. I’ve stopped moving the desk around, and I’m likin’ the space more. I made myself a new marker board thingie. Puzzling through the lack of wall space, and, friends, I need to scribble on the wall like I need my morning coffee, I realized I could use the closet door to hang something.  I found a plastics place that would cut a piece of white acrylic to the dimensions I needed. A few mirror mounts, some wet-erase pens, and I’m all set to scribble. (If you use acrylic, dry-erase pens will “ghost” the board. Wet-erase pens fare better. Use a microfiber cloth to clean so that you don’t scratch the plastic. There’s a bit of a glare, as you can see in the photo. It’s workin’ for moi.)

Scribbling is another necessary component of my writing.

Comments are open for anyone with leads on coffee houses in Louisville.

CommentsI’ve gone to Louisville once a year for the Humana Festival for about a decade. I swear by Days Coffee shop, on Bardstown road. I’ve also heard that the Third Street Cafe (I think that’s what it’s called) is good. There’s also a place called Karma Cafe on Bardstown that isn’t a coffee shop, but is open late, has decent food, and free internet access.
Good luck.
Posted by: Slay July 16, 2007 at 11:55 AM