What I write on
In this tent I write with a pen in
a black, unlined journal. Room enough
for illustrations. I'm posting blog
entries at public libraries
all around the Avalon. So no, the
quad-man did not see my little ibook,
as I have no ibook. Perhaps the
present tense quality of this blog
makes you think I'm writing it as
it happens, rather than recreating
the as-it-happens feel.
a black, unlined journal. Room enough
for illustrations. I'm posting blog
entries at public libraries
all around the Avalon. So no, the
quad-man did not see my little ibook,
as I have no ibook. Perhaps the
present tense quality of this blog
makes you think I'm writing it as
it happens, rather than recreating
the as-it-happens feel.
1 Comments:
Mr. Winter, I'm so envious I ache. I ache to be at Cape St. Mary's, to be feeding slate under my tires, to feel the ocean wind on my bare shoulders, to escape to the island. (Iland - is that too an apple product?) Meanwhile I am grateful for unlined journals, black pens and the as it happens feeling. Even envy can remind us there is life inside of us. - Guiness Girl
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