In the heart of Marrakesh, seated at a long table laden with tangerines and wafting aromatic delights, my discomfort was palpable. Surrounded by a group of 12 artist participants, all connected by history and relationships, I, the lone traveler, introduced myself. “Hi, I’m Susan from Ann Arbor and am here alone.” To which the entire group immediately replied, “No, you’re not?!”
Posts tagged #discomfort
Out of My Comfort Zone: Sometimes I Fall: The Discomfort of Asking
In response to your kind inquiry, ‘Would you be interested in writing?,’ right off the bat, I’ve been transported a few miles, to the outskirts of the town of Discomfort. I stare at its welcome sign. Founded: at the beginning of human time. Population: countless.
