We had this plan, sparked by our recent reading of Jamie O'Neill's At Swim, Two Boys; we would chart our Bloom-like journey through the day, linking to all of the issues of substance which occupied our thoughts, as well as the simple pleasures provided via headphones; or the meditations on mimesis inspired by a Tintin calendar.
But while, as we ankled toward our writing group meeting in a glorious April twilight, we happily enumerated all the ways in which our peregrinations through this storied archipelago were super-duper-significant and deeply interesting, when we hauled ourselves out of the hammock this morning what seemed just last night to comprise a delectable batter of frothed Experieince had hardened into a stale little cookie of dried memory.
We hate it when that happens.
Posted by BT at April 03, 2002 09:52 AM