Lately I’ve been blogging at Starbucks. I take my MacBook Pro, order a vente size Tai Chi Latte, and sometimes a ham, swiss and egg sandwich, settle in one of those corner armchairs, and get busy.

Somehow I’m more productive at Starbucks. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’m anchored there, without the distractions of my own home, yet with the comforting sounds of other people, many using their own laptops or iPads. Some people are simply dozing. There’s music playing, the barristas filling orders, the air conditioning quietly cooling. I feel part of the human community.

When I visit my family in the San Francisco, I often check out the local Starbucks at the end of one of my walks. And it is always packed. I used to feel resentful. Who are these squatters? Working on their Ph.D. dissertations? In L.A. it would be screenplays. Nowhere to sit, and become another squatter. So I’d leave.

Now I’ve found the times when I am most likely to find a conducive seat in the easy chair by the window, where I too can squat, write, and enjoy the ambiance. Starbucks is, of course, on to something. It is the village coffeehouse, multiplied abundantly.

Let’s affirm: I am creative wherever I am, in whatever medium I choose, with the freedom, vision and persistence to produce beautiful work.