On a hopeful Monday morning last May, with Philadelphia's honey sun coming down strong,

I alongside my college roommates, graduated from The University of Pennsylvania. Over these past several months, I've watched those roommates and many of my contemporaries put aside what they really want and either choose or fall into paths motivated by the consumer economy that does so readily control our culture. And I've learned that there are too many office jobs, too few jobs that challenge the mind, and almost no jobs where startling individuality is encouraged.

I recognize that, in some ways, I am a product of this culture, which I am condemning. How can I not be? Living in New York City, in Greenwich Village, requires a certain attention to money, which determines my well- being. So I am the last to advocate hypocrisy or pretend that I am above the consumer society, which is prescient especially in a city as unforgiving as mine. At the same time, I find myself disillusioned with the paradigm offered to me and have made a conscious effort to step outside of it in order to create a meaningful life for myself.

When I first arrived in New York, I was working for an independent film company in which the viewer (the consumer) governed decisions that were supposed to be artistically based. The producer needed a name to sell overseas and the film needed a sitcom star to be lucrative in America. While there were exceptions, over my brief time working there, I saw great scripts come through the door, which never found a home, and I saw lousy scripts, with the right marketing edge, found their way to production. This frustration, coupled with a tragic work environment, encouraged me to leave my job and begin working on my writing (my true love) in a more concentrated capacity.

My newfound commitment to my passion led me, in the heat of July, to a Writers Conference in Taos, New Mexico. Taos is a small mountain community in Northern New Mexico, over 7000 feet above sea level. When you head up higher in Taos to the Ski Valley or DH Lawrence's epic ranch, the air and natural beauty demand that you remind yourself to breathe. Though I was hoping this open space and natural beauty would have a powerful impact on me, I was completely unprepared for the magic that accompanies seeing a cloud at eye-level. I was even less prepared to experience one of the most rewarding emotional adventures of my life; completely devoid of consumerism or marketing or lifetimes governed by what money can create for you.

At the Taos Summer Writers conference, I had the honor of studying under Antonya Nelson, the brave writer of such books as Talking In Bed and The Expendables. I also had the pleasure of entering a community of individuals who, for at least the time we spent together, were motivated by their love of writing, and of sharing, of bringing something to this place beyond what they were asked to bring. We weren't viewing each other as consumers, but rather as listeners-as people who could ingest what each was offering and offer something back.

Listening to Toni and my classmates share why they write, and what they hope to gain from it, made it clear to me that I want to spend whatever years I am allotted on this planet surrounded by such wonderful energy.

Back in New York, with billboards on every corner telling me what I should be doing with my money and my time and my energy, I've tried to hold onto the spirit of my time in New Mexico. I've tired to hold onto that spirit and find a community of writers that will ensure I never lose sight of that gift- to be seen by strangers as someone whom they weren't trying to sell or buy, but rather know.

Copyright © 1999 Laura Dave

Laura Dave is a freelance writer living in New York City. She writes for several web-sites including www.Renaissancmag.com and www.Ontap.com . She is currently hard at work on a collection of short stories and soft at work on her first novel. For information on the Taos conference, see www.unm.edu/~taosconf