It’s hard to read. Hard to stay focused. I’m thinking about utility. I’m tired, moving slowly, but want everything to go faster.
One milestone to the next. I drove back from Northampton in time to teach my morning class and felt like a hero. After, walking down Angell Street to my car, I deflated.
The book I hadn’t planned on writing is getting in my way. Perhaps it is not useful to think of it this way. But here we are, nearly spring. There are moments in it I love, but what is it, as a whole?
Anyway, present company: two episodes of David Naimon’s excellent “Between the Covers:” R.O. Kwon and Tommy Pico. An interview with Anne Carson in the Paris Review. Don Mee Choi’s translation of Kim Hyesoon’s Autobiography of Death. Finished the review of Sally Wen Mao’s Oculus.
Next week, there is much to do. An open heart brings many gifts but there are costs to porousness. I let a lot in.
Meanwhile, papers piling up. Meanwhile, rain today.