Real breakthroughs. Bread slicing machine dividing a loaf of rye in perfectly sized slices, a wall of dominoes falling like soldiers, sinking a golf ball in a cup, watching it circle the cup, thwap, thwap, plunk. It’s when you write ten pages, your back howling, your carpals tunneling, time dissolving like the closing shot of a corny movie. You are genius. Every moment is yours, every word that climbs onto your page, that lingers, stays. This is your time. Look both ways before your cross the street.
Filed under: Uncategorized |