A Writer in Paris

A writer in Paris. Do they exist? How does one even get such a title.Or is it just an ‘instagram vs. reality’ fictional character, in a fictional world, Sex and the City type-thingy? It’s got to be a monologue or some sort of identity crisis that someone coins themself within their mind to make them feel like their craft is of great importance -right?

Wrong. I woke up today to this ‘dream to be’ on my real life schedule for the fall of next year.

“ Congratulations Natasha Collazo!

On behalf of the Chateau Residency team you have been accepted to the Château d'Orquevaux Artists & Writers Residency in Champagne-Ardenne, France! The application process is highly competitive and has received an overwhelming response from many countries. Approximately 20 percent of the artists that apply are accepted to Château d'Orquevaux, which is considered one of "The top ten most beautiful residencies in the world". Being accepted as an Artist-in-Residence is quite an accomplishment. Our residency will enhance your artistic journey, add to your portfolio, and offer you the chance to collaborate and engage with a diverse group of artists.

You have been awarded The Denis Diderot Grant which will be applied towards your residency.”

I closed my laptop then lifted it back up, as if I had to double check that I wasn’t hallucinating.

Me? Wait, Why?

Yes. That’s the first thing we do when it comes to our dreams isn’t it. The doubt. Questioning my abilities and talents. Clearly they have the wrong person.

But they don’t.

I don’t know exactly how all of this works. This life thing. But I have my ideas. I know that love exists. And I know that dreams are birthed out of love. I know that God exists, and God is love. And I can’t help but think those two tie a knot on the call of my time spent here on earth. Surely, I must live that out.

When I read scripture and parables, the writing is so poetic- David and Solomon and many others scourge emotions with words. God himself was a poet. He uses storytelling to get to the hearts of men. It’s part of his image. Therefore, that’s what I see when I look in the mirror.

I know that the things I love to do are where I burn the most calories. In this case, brain cells.

“When you love something, you get good at it”

I believe you can only suck at something until you get to know it well. It’s only up from there. There was a time where I loved writing so much that I was pretty confident I was never going to be good enough to pursue it as a dream and I was okay with that.

I think you have to get to the place of doing something simply because you are consumed, whole heartedly -free from motive.

I’ve been writing my whole life. For most writers, that is the case. But also, most writers will tell you they didn’t always know how to write poetry, or stories, screen-plays, etc. They learned it.

I was today-years old when I realized I write on all my trips. When I went to Haiti in 2015, I was not exactly pursuing writing, in-fact it was just a hobby. But I journaled my entire trip. From the moment I woke up without AC, to the cold jugs of water we were given to shower with so we wouldn’t get sick, to missing my luggage for the first few days. I journaled it all. And when I got home, I blogged it. Why? Because I loved it. I loved telling the world about my trip through story-telling in words bringing to life those moments for them as if they were right there with me missing their own luggage or even sweeter, hearing hymns sang aloud by the Haitian natives.

And exactly ten years later it’s almost as if I’m having some sort of epiphany of it all when I questioned why I was chosen to have a room at the Chateau.

In between those ten years so much has happened in my writing journey. I’ve gained experiences you wouldn’t believe. I still chuckle when I mutter the words “I’m a journalist” out loud. Getting paid to write is the bar for me, but it didn’t stop me when I didn’t reach it. I still pinch myself because it feels that way. The reality is, I learned. But ultimately I loved.

I loved my way to become, (and yes-she’s real) a writer in Paris!

If you would like to be a part of sending a writer off on her journey to France, feel free to leave a donation.

A single dollar can go a long way.

💋 Natasha