“ Lately, I’ve been wondering if sitting quietly in a café, pretending to read a newspaper, and not writing is the most earnest expression in our age: no echoes of language, nothing to reblog, just pure unmitigated self sitting with self. I might, after a time of blank staring, find myself constructing a sentences in my head, maybe a paragraph, simply letting the words roll around in my mind. I will not. I repeat. I will not write them down. They are my secret sentences, not yours.
On Writing, Publishing, and Living : clusterflock
more of what i like
a collection of things that caught my eye/ear/brain
see also:
mlarson.orgflickr
last.fm
blip.fm
etc.
