I just spent a few days walking through London. Met writer pal Penny Goring in person for the first time, which was lovely and weird (meeting virtual people! Disturbing additional dimensions!) Wrote a lot, too, mostly at night, but when I came home, most of it had disappeared from my iPad. Perhaps this is a lesson in letting go, said my wife. Yes, or perhaps I caught a curse when I crossed the path of a Covent Garden gypsy. Or maybe the story, created in London, was never meant to be read outside of town and as soon as I get back to London it’ll magically reappear on my screen. There’s an uncanny dimension to writing digitally. Especially when you can only write with five fingers of the left hand as I. It turns every line into a spell. The photo above alludes to my favorite trophy from London: by accident, I visited the Vollard Suite at the British Museum, which I found hugely inspiring in ways too early to assess but I can feel the old Pablo energy rush through my veins…and by way of an update: I’ve decided to abandon this blog for a new lightweight Tumblr presence here, since this particular blog is mostly about vanity, I believe, and feeding vanity just takes too much time. Summer’s slimming down time…
[First posted in 100 Days of Summer at Plattenbau]