My imaginary readers, however, accept with intensity my oddness. Could be that it's wracking of my nerves to envision readers of flesh and of blood tolerating this simulcrum of Sarah Sarai which makes it to the postings; plus I have trouble with intimacy (me and no one else has that problem).
Remember what it was like to be adolescent and ponder all the versions of yourself existing in different dimensions? Readers younger than me may find such imaginings routine in our post-Matrix society (though science fiction and quantum physics preceded my generation, so I could have been as jaded).
Why my parallel life musings?
I read a poem about such conjecture at my reading last Saturday at Small's. What a good feeling to read new work. To know I can write something substantial. I'm not posting the poem just yet but know I was full of love when I wrote the first draft. I was mother (or Aquarian) to the world.
Segue #2. I was able to send off my National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship application (Fiction). I am so happy to show up for myself, to pull it together by deadline. The prize, a fellowship, money, recognition, would be nice but being part of the process is joy too. I hope to return to you all beginning tomorrow. I've missed you, you who are real and you imagined. It'll be a return to the process of connection.
We read your blog and love that you keep writing it. It gives us strength -- and we are imaginary readers. Imagine the mighty might your blog has wrought in your real readers.
ReplyDeleteMy imagination is imagining and loving the image. Thank you for taking the time to write. Hurrah.
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