This morning my secret astrologer-cum-muse (that can't be right) sent telepathic beams of optimism to me. I awoke feeling more alert than usual, but then panicked for a moment because I wondered if this is what non-morning people experience just before heart failure. It's the pre-dawn hour and I shouldn't be sentient yet. The Other brought me coffee, and I settled down after checking my pulse. I know now that I must read an Emily Dickinson poem, and this will send me into some spiral of creative ecstasy that will break the spell of literary paralysis I experienced whilst in the Facebook matrix. I also know this is an auspicious day for reflection, light calisthenics and papier-mâché.
It's always a good day for papier-mache...unless it rains.
ReplyDeleteNow I long to rip up newspaper and create something. It's a satisfying pastime.
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