Last night I accomplished so much in my new special writing place that all day I anticipated my return. Now that I’m here, typing eagerly, feet crossed and slightly off an ottoman, my spine cushioned far more comfortably than when I’m up against my
bed office pillows, I’m excited to get to work, rather than: Fatigued to the point of primal screaming (silent screams, so as not to disturb the slumbering child, although I wouldn’t mind freaking out certain cats that pee on my bare legs in the dead of night) and, after that, possibly nodding off before the laptop’s screen……………………………Hi!
What I see from my new special writing place: The inherited piano’s scarred clawed feet, banker’s lamp, my cheery Dufy way over there by the bird’s cage, the wedding photo of me throwing myself at my husband, the many photos of our child, Diggory-kitten on the living room rug deciding whether or not to attack me, my exhausted writer-husband (he burns more than one fat candle at both ends, also virtual ends, scented candles and those odd, beeswax ones that become deformed the second they’re lit) passed out on the couch with Al, the 18lb cat, the dog splayed on the floor below them, horse-snoring—such sights soothe and inspire…………………………..Hola!
All hear: Take a fresh look at your surroundings and possibly reveal new special gems! As, you know, Whoozit suggests in that famous quote I’ll never remember. I recently stumbled across the quote in the dino exhibit at the Natural History Museum and should have written it down—but I was sure I’d remember as it was so extremely bizarre to see Whoozit’s words there, spread out across a wall on the 2nd, less popular and very dim floor of a dinosaur exhibit boasting the many fossils of Thomas The T-Rex. (Thomas. T-Rex. Was it for the alliteration? Why not Tormentular, or Tirano, or Tempreschua The Great. Thomas? Really? When there’s already Thomas The Tank Engine? Did no one bring this up? Do paleontologists not have children? Or is it because they do? Who is responsible? Fred The T-Rex is fine, just fine with a built-in alliteration of its own. Or Ed. Tzedd. But Thomas? They might as well have named it Mud………………………) Right: What did whoozit say? Something about seeing old things new. Yes, that’s it! Proust. Not surprising I had trouble remembering—I’ve been struggling with page 10 of Swann’s Way for over a year.
Proust!!! Proust!!! Proust!!!:
“The real voyage of discovery consists
not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”
Which is probably not very correct of me to refer to when describing “re-finding” an armchair. But perhaps you get the idea, which—is. Which! Is……………………………….
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