I just realized that it’s been quite a while since I backed this thing up.
Something to do tonight while I’m working on the book.
It’s going to be a slow day; I’m reading pages. I wish I had more to say these days, and I think that somewhere, beneath everything, I do… but it all gets sort of suppressed when you’re working full time or more. You lose track of what you think (and what you’ve thought) — you lose it to the larger structure of the day, and to the larger structure of your responsibilities and agreements.
Very few people manage to stay larger than their titles, larger than their jobs, larger than the body or canon of their work, I think. I’d like to be one of them, but I’m not there yet. I’m fighting with everything I have, but I’m not there yet.