“Consider all this, and then turn to this green, gentle, and most docile earth; consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself. For as this appalling ocean surrounds the verdant land, so in the soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but encompassed by all the horrors of the half known life. God keep thee! Push not off from that isle, thou canst never return!” – Herman Melville, Moby-Dick.
Rough days ahead. First thoughts at the news of all the death and suffering in the Paris attacks: are any friends or acquaintances among the dead or wounded. The rest will play itself out in all the sickening aftermaths of anguish, grief, rage, and so on.
Keep writing, yes, keep writing.
late morning, I pick up some bread at a friend’s house. Tell her I wrote the last scenes in the first draft of my latest. Her companion is a film maker. The appropriate metaphor comes to her naturally: ah, she says, you’ve finished filming, you’re starting the editing.