It's raining and damp but extraordinarily beautiful as only a May day can be. I just got done with a writing meeting which always gives me hope for going home and finishing the novel, which is now a distended 85 pages or so. I never write well when it rains, I'm such a product of my environment.
There's been a bit of magic around me again. It's been a very creative time, and with that comes the polarity of creation.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

You’re a Loner If They Need You, If They Don’t You’re Just Alone (A Treatise on Loneliness)