After that I began to write. And write. Write write writewritewritewrtite. I filled notebook after notebook. Split it at the seam and used the other side of the paper. Front and back. I wrote into the center of many questions, looking for answers.
Dateline: Thursday at Thalassa
Well a pretty good day. Yesterday I went into town. It took me 20 minutes to get out, Must be a record. Once I got to the road I took my time and in half an hour was to town and ate a sandwich outside thelibrary where I spent 2 hours reading e-mail and charging devices. Gave me some wiggle room with the phone, though battery juice will probably be low by Saturday morning when I leave. Also extravagant with the I-Pod, listening to news and music.
All these little restrictions I've put on myself are coming off--all the counting of bread slices. I'll probably end up with too much food. Hopefully I'll lose a few pounds--not body weight, but actual physical weight since I don't want to carry leftover food home in my backpack. Made one last batch of skillet conrbread and a mess of lentils--why am I recording this minutia???
It feels a little silly, but this is the real, all the other stuff is just in my head. The stories, flashes, memoir bits I've been jotting down.
That's what I do most of the day, every day here. Look out at the sea and tell myself stories. Watch the gigantic carpenter bees thwack into the side of the shack and compose sentences. Catch the rise and fall of a swallow carrying grass to a nest and the plovers scribing the beach with their taloned feet and drift in and out of words.
|INTERIOR VIEWS INSIDE THALASSA|