I'm sitting across what appear to to be two korean girls practicing their arabic: a picture postcard of purpose and dedication to it.
Staring at gchat and skype - realising for the umpteenth time how uncomfortable I find it to be alone with my thoughts.
Still writing, despite it, so that I can.
I met Lawrence Rudic yesterday - who was in Antigone with Wi and I. We talked about how writing kept us centered and rooted. Kept me honest, kept him sane. Talked of Wi's advice to keep breathing, and how basic, important, and easy to forget it was. I remember that I slept last night because I reminded myself of it.
so my two humble projects for the moment are to breathe and write.
and i've added reading to the list. Currently on bookshelf:
1) Your First Novel (a guidebook on writing)
2) Incredibly Close and Extremely Loud by Jonathan Safran Foer (already love it/him)
and am debating which two to borrow from following three:
1) Teach Yourself: Creative Writing
2) Kiran Desai's The Inheritance of Loss
3) Ian McEwan's The Innocent
I think I'm leaving McEwan for later.
