Despite my best efforts to telepathically import passing thoughts straight onto blog posts, it seems that technology is still so demanding, requiring I sit at my keyboard and all, requiring I manually type out what I’d like to tell you about life on the trail, as it were. Now that I’m settled in one place for a while — and a dreamy place, at that, I might add — I plan to dole out semi-regular updates in this old-fashioned, manual-entry method.
[To friends who call BS on that faux-technophilia, based on knowledge of how much I love to unlpug , I say,touché — and pronounce it “toosh.”]
I am truly in my own personal heaven here at the Kerouac House, under the shade of a an enormous live oak straight out of a scene from a very good daydream. I’ve been so warmly welcomed and swept into the fold (extra-big thank-yous to Summer and Mike and Janna and Geoff: all amazing) and am sort of bewildered by what space and green and support and unbroken time can do for a brain. My only concern is that now that I know, I doubt I’ll ever be able to convince myself again that a corner desk crammed in a small studio apartment is all the workspace I’ll ever need. (Oh denial, you served me so well for so long, and I thank you for that … )
I’ll be posting on doses of life around here (and ideas brewing up ‘here’ [points to cabeza]) in the months ahead. Here’s to hoping they pass slowly, indeed …