goldwater

Here are views from under the bridge on Roosevelt Island. I work as a Fellow at Goldwater Hospital with other MFA students at NYU. Past several corridors, we have writing workshops in the bingo/art room. The walls are tacked in construction paper cutouts and you can see out to the river. My experiences with the writers are almost impossible to write about and perhaps wrong to as they should be no different from any other writer. It is however so much more encouraging on the spirit to witness someone who cannot physically write but must still. Many of my friends said the thought of doing this, being around people who are hurt, would depress them. Nowhere else, have I turned a corner to see two men barren of their legs belly down on gurneys racing down a corridor, spinning the wheels with their hands and hollering. Perhaps the most beautiful is my time outside of workshop with a patient paralyzed in lock down who can only blink to communicate and attempt noise but no longer speak articulately and yet she can hear, see, and think perfectly. Reading pages of Dahl and Sexton to her and seeing her eyes light up as if to laugh is one of the cutest things I've ever seen. It really takes all the excuses out of putting off writing and now when I see a pile of dishes and strewn clothes from my morning indecision I can comfortably know that yes, all that silly stuff can wait. It is also a comfort to know that there are programs like this one to ensure that nearly no matter what happens a writer can still write.