Picking up The Great Fire again on plane and as always, when traveling (this time, to coincide with its accompanying a suddenly remembered writing piece), I feel the sudden loss of the early and interim years of young woman "development" on which the book comments. How they went by so quickly, and what did I do with them, and so much to do yet. One true perfect novel, perfect albeit of course pocked by its times. And with such face holes, a novel of “still…” By a Shirley to channel, mimic; a narration not conceived but induced.
Bookmarking Ava’s Zen. She says: I think if you find yourself enjoying a moment, tell yourself “no teaching for the next hour.” You can then be student of the moment.
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