Alison Clement

observations from a novelist who sometimes wants to say something small and see it published immediately

Living Like Julia

Also a Sandhill Crane

My yoga teacher moved to Florida. Every few days she posts a photograph on Facebook. While most of my friends post updates on Gaza or Ferguson, on labor efforts, climate change, police brutality, Monsanto, or economics, she posts the image of a bird, flying over the ocean; the sunset; a tree. It’s messy, being alive. It’s never all one way or another. It’s Gaza and Ferguson, and it’s also a […]

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I am not improving myself.

I read a Facebook post by a guy from Europe about the way Americans ride our bikes. Fast and joyless, like we are in race. We do this for no reason,  without thinking, because hurrying is automatic, it’s what we do. We turn things into a race, into a chore, a goal, into what’s good for us, into self-improvement. So after that FB post, I changed. Now I leave earlier. […]

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I want to enjoy my own house Imagethe way I enjoy the funky hotel where we stay in Mexico sometimes. Not looking around to see the jobs that need to be done. I want to sit in my back yard and not think about what a failure I am at gardening. To sit in my studio and not wonder what the exact right configuration of furniture should be. This morning the sun comes up in front of me and from the studio window I see trees. Don’t think about the fact that one of them is the supposed dwarf that’s taken over and must be cut down. Stop the thought at the sunrise.