The First One to Speak Loses

Epigraph is from one of my favorite books.

What we, or at any rate what I, refer to confidently as memory—meaning a moment, a scene, a fact that has been subjected to a fixative and thereby rescued from oblivion—is really a form of storytelling that goes on continually in the mind and often changes with the telling. Too many conflicting emotional interests are involved for life ever to be wholly acceptable, and possibly it is the work of the storyteller to rearrange things so that they conform to this end. In any case, in talking about the past we lie with every breath we draw.

—William Maxwell, So Long, See You Tomorrow

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Day One: July 2, 2013

Highway shooting snarled traffic what seemed like forever. Arrived late. Once I settled in it felt like slipping into an old shoe. Some changes in Cottage 1, Markham House.  No radio, will find one tomorrow and AIR CONDITIONING. One window in the main room has been fitted with an air conditioner. What hasn't changed is the peacefulness on the porch and the brilliant night time sky.

My rolling suitcase brims with books and my work space is cluttered with chapter files, computer/printer, journal, etc.

But thanks to KK, my friend and fellow writer, Picasso's "Woman with a Book" reclines on the easel never far from my view.


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