How do I change when I am writing?
With great difficulty. It depends on three vital points.
Where am I writing? While on the Skytrain with hundreds of bodies—a few religiously unwashed–pressing against me, cutting off my air.
Do I sit between a staunchly stoic older couple in a tiny Aquabus, which heaves against the water en route to Granville Island?
Perhaps I am in a meeting in the matchbox-sized grey Quaker church opposite my place.
How am I writing? The options are my phone, laptop, a pen, or using my best friend’s phone with the voice activated android assistant.
Finally, am I switching my jammies, earrings, or my new bra?
Lordy Terry, you describe things so well, it makes me sometimes like this time smile, and others I cry with you.
Me I go to OZ mentally, wherever I am. xo
|1299 days ago|