It is night now, and I have my copy of Bruce Chatwin’s Patagonia next to me and my pen case and lap desk.
I wish to be surrounded by extraordinary and appropriate things. I suppose I am. It takes a couple of decades, but it’s amazing what you can collect…
TV shows from Britain, one perfect fountain pen, lots of pictures. A dog with a red ball. Many cans of tea, some flavored, about a third of them green. Really only one oolong. A favorite room painted red. The ability to remember a lot of the lines of Eliot that I memorized when I was a teenager. Word-drunk.
And time to write it all down.
white pebble 