here i am with my handstoday after abandoning the utter failures that should have been letters to lady J & sylvia i realized my heart was too up for writing itself down. & i think about how when i was seventeen i had this monster crush on anton chekhov (yes) of all people & how i didn't understand his bit about being like ice when you sit down to write. as i was full of melodrama at the time.
(note the past-tense: "was." wishful thinking.)(perhaps i should just say i was full of melodramatic fire at the time.)
i think, now there is no ice in my heart. not with this book i am reading which might have been titled Cosmology For The Melodramatic Of Heart. it is thrilling to think of Universe As Observer. it is thrilling to think that i can keep up with the author & maybe the only reason that i can is that the words he uses are all new to me. (pile enough new words into a thing & i'll make myself understand.)
keeping in mind: my last (& only) Brush With Physics was almost three years ago, when mischka would come over to my room in farr & explain things to me & i would get very very giddy, thinking about light.
& put what you said into video & tell you about what i had done.
& then the rest of the year unfolded & somehow out of that i am here, still giddy, thinking about light, listening to loud things with the windows open because it is summer & i am thrilled.
too thrilled to write letters. too thrilled to put down accurately all the connections that are spinning. connections don't spin! but i guess they do.
oh.
Que Dios nos conceda valor como a San Jorge para luchar contra el drag�n infernal y vencerlo y no permitirle que nos esclavice con sus tentaciones.
