phoenix {rising} |
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Rememory Great. I did as ordered, and drank some grapefruit juice with a gazillion percentage of my daily required vitamin C, and that seemed to help. Now my head throbs dully. It still hurts when I touch my browbone. But at least I'm mobile, and cheerful, and don't feel fracture reverberating through my skull. Today in poetry studio, Crystal asked us to picture the kitchen in which we grew up. And there was my kitchen, awash in the brightness of the big living room windows. The broad-faced clock, the red papier-måché fish, the garlic braid. The teapots on the ledges. The one-legged table with the corners sheared off for child safety. The shelves of cookbooks. Everything was suddenly there in my head, and I tried to draw it, like Crystal wanted, and couldn't. I am more precise with words than crayons. But it was all in my head. The espresso machine, the electric mixer, the glass-fronted cabinets of Bauer flatware. The stained floor, the funny half-matte gloss of the tile. Remarkable. Afterwards, a girl in the studio and I stood around and discussed the Creative Review. I suggested a party before the end of the semester, to cement the group. Maybe if we get our budget finalized before Fall Break, a party will be in order. I could perhaps have it at the house, but surely there are better places. Ana said she's thinking of starting an impromptu workshop. I told her to count me in. I want a group of writing friends. Today in class, when we talked about revision, I felt like a poet. |
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