Without O.D.ing on coffee my mind is a different creature altogether. But the calm sea also breeds lethargy. Lukewarm waters a la Med aren't conducive to creativity. Or are they? I suppose I could write in a villa on Cap d'Antibes. But I'm craving a cold shock to rouse the senses, to stir the cerebral mass, to cook a novel or two. Impressed by the economy of style of Chandler and Rand. But even that thought doesn’t lead very far. Bumps into the kitchen cabinets and dirty laundry and pizza pieces strewn on the dining room floor. A toddler really is an immense brain drain. And I want to kill the person who recently wrote "motherhood is a state of grace."
No comments:
Post a Comment