So I’ve been at this now consistently for two weeks.
I wonder how professionals do it.
I mean it’s a lot of work, dragging chunky bits of scribbling gold out of my head each and every day.
I remember when I was in college, back in the old Twentieth, riding to school on the TTC. My brain was afire with glimmering wondercakes of poetic wizardry. The words flew forth as if I was possessed by the first dictionary-ist.
Sorry. I accidentally a word.
I still have all those scraps, safely tucked away, the ink barely faded.
Maybe I should try to transpose them, as a catalogue of my intellectual and creative development through the millennia.
That way, philosophy professors of the future will have a wealth of pre-lecture ha-has with which to entertain whatever passes for students at that time.
Still, there was a good one i wrote about trees.
Remind me to dig it up before I leave.