In Siyah Süt, Elif Şafak talks about fishermen. How they wait. How they don't look for or force or chase things. Success, people, ideas. They wait patiently until they come. There's a time for everything.
I'm not feeling or thinking anything strongly. I'm not making any exciting discoveries. That's why I'm not writing, because I don't want to write anything that doesn't come from my heart. I don't want to revisit old thoughts and discoveries and feelings, it would be like shuffling the variables in an equation only to discover you are back where you started, it would be like tying a knot that doesn't hold. I'm not forgetful enough to think they are new.
So there isn't anything new. It's just that every time I walk through Maida Vale the lights, the shapes are sharper. The silence is sharper. Maybe what I've learned in the past year and a half will do for a while. Maybe I have reached peaceful grounds with sharp lights and soft shadows.
I promise I'll write when something exciting occurs to me.
Post a Comment