nostalgia, cocoons, finishing books
This picture is from my last trip to Italy, when the book stretched out and out and out. I feel nostalgic for that time, which now seems like an innocent, happier time, which it was not. I spent all of my time worrying that I would never finish.
But for now, tonight, I think it might be over, because I have a strange feeling of being adrift, let out of my shell. It is not a relief. It’s more like being homeless or exposed, like coming up from underwater and the air is cold. I can’t imagine what one does with one’s time, when one is not always thinking through a book. I guess one goes to meetings and goes out to dinner with friends and picks up children at school, all with a clear, open mind, as opposed to a mind wrapped in a cocoon.
I don’t really like it out here. I can’t wait to tuck myself into a new book.