It’s hard not to mock the classic “hang in there, baby” sign, or it’s recent equivalents in rose gold calligraphy. It’s so vapidly upbeat, oblivious to the complicated obstacles that stand in the way of happiness or success, as if finding fulfillment is a matter of telling yourself to do it. And yet, here I am, scrolling Pinterest for the perfect computer wallpaper that says “create”.
The end is near.
This week I did my research due diligence and thought about medieval Sicily in a new context.
I played an amazing (and free!) mobile game a few weeks ago, and it helped keep me sane.
The biggest thing stopping me from leaving my apartment in Palermo on any given day is how hard it is to open the door. Thank God for scanners and digital editions of manuscripts.
Over the past 10 years, I’ve watched myself shift modes of self expression, from artistic and metaphorical to literary and literal. Am I less creative than I used to be, or do I just not have any patience for obfuscation?