It hasn’t happened in a while, but sometimes I encounter a night where sleep is presented as wishful thinking. Call it insomnia, call it Earl Grey tea, call it anxiety, call it February, call it deadlines, call it catching up with the feelings you thought you’d already felt, call it losing sight of futures, call it the raging storm blowing in from the Atlantic, call it whatever you like. On this recent night, I resorted to reading Anne Carson’s
The first edition is already sold out and I'm so sad I missed it... :( But Ella, congratulations, and thank you for sharing your words with us. Your metaphorical jam makes my world sweeter!
I have now arranged for a second, slightly larger printing—I did not do a very good job of anticipating the loveliness of people... but I am happy to be able to make a slightly larger quantity, and these second ones will still be signed and numbered by me!
Thank you Artie, this is so kind, it always provides such a feeling of awe when words make sense to people in these ways. I’m glad for vulnerability, glad for like-mindedness.
The first edition is already sold out and I'm so sad I missed it... :( But Ella, congratulations, and thank you for sharing your words with us. Your metaphorical jam makes my world sweeter!
I have now arranged for a second, slightly larger printing—I did not do a very good job of anticipating the loveliness of people... but I am happy to be able to make a slightly larger quantity, and these second ones will still be signed and numbered by me!
I can't wait!
Thank you Artie, this is so kind, it always provides such a feeling of awe when words make sense to people in these ways. I’m glad for vulnerability, glad for like-mindedness.