A week has passed and I'm still spinning from hours of my own ineffectual attempts and three hours on the phone with Windows tech support in India to recover my work. During that three hours, you'd have heard me say, "what" far too many times due to a cultural language barrier, not to mention a technological language barrier.
All this occurred on Fiesta weekend. I have a feeling that shouting, "Oh My God!" after becoming aware that my writing work had magically disappeared, which then grew to heightened panic where a few favorite curse words escaped and no doubt, heard over the Fiesta music.
After a Valium and a big, messy warm cookie dripping chocolate on my fingers, I fell on the couch and watched "Under the Tuscan Sun" (nonfiction story by Frances Mayes) for the 5th time. I'm preparing for Cortona, Italy where the film was shot and where I'll be sharing my workshop, (at a retreat for breast cancer survivors) "Healing and Living Through Color"--a workshop created from my fashion/design background as well as my writing. It organically developed beginning with my own use of visual imagery vibrant with color when I would lay on a gurney in prep for one of the many surgeries I endured. I'm delighted for the opportunity to share tools and tips on creating blissful visual imagery as well as desired color into one's wardrobe and home. Cortona will be presenting a village bursting with color and a tangerine glow at magic hour--unique Tuscan light I distinctly remember when in Florence decades ago. There will be many memories to cherish in a journal.
The film and thoughts of Italy distracted me for the time being. Another distraction (also unusual) was two glasses of sparkling rose at the enchanting El Encanto with a close friend the day after India tech support, and then out on a 'date' a few days later at Intermezzo where I had two shots of a high-end (smooth) Tequila. Both shots (one is my limit) ordered by the worldly gentleman I was with. I indulged. However, I'm quite sure this was an anomaly and I will not be treading down the tragic path of alcoholism like too many talented and tortured writers before me.
Several days have passed since this unfortunate oddity entered my life and ignoring the task of beginning the final review all over again. There was one last ditch effort at Geek Squad yesterday where some explanation was given but the millennial techie expert could not be my superhero as I'd hoped, and present my work hidden in some unknown depth of my laptop. I visualized my work magically reappearing as it magically disappeared. Crestfallen, I walked out of Best Buy realizing I'd have to start from square one. I couldn't face it--still not quite able to face page 1, once again. I'd already hit the wall on this project with its conception several years ago, stream of consciousness writing essay after essay to a massive revision last year and the many passes of tweaking and refining since.
Instead of getting back to page 1 and begin the laborious task of a line-by-line review and seeing the red edits and notes again that I'd just successfully erased, I'm writing this blog. Well, at least I'm at the keyboard.
Keep on swimming through life,