there were actual tears. for real. a full-out joy-weep.
because sometimes things come together so easily that it's like, MY GOD, why can it not always be so effortless? and why have i not been thinking this way all along???
sometimes you wake up in the morning, and on the tube on the way to pilates the story you're writing fuses with the fact that everything you did last week involved 80 year-olds and you have a REVELATION, find a grant that's due in a week, and have a project proposal by 4 p.m., a fact that sinks in with the changing of that backslash to a dash.
i've been doing this for ten years, staring at the story for twenty. i've known it was important to me, but not known how to tell the story of the importance it held for others. essentially, i've not known how to get burvil in.
this morning, on the tube, staring off into space because i only had manuscripts and no book, it pulled together. the way opened up. i can get burvil in.
(1) trains are amazingly inspirational.
(2) it's rather a consolation then that it took jackie ten years to get to watts. we are all of us slow sometimes.