in 4 days this time, i will be in London. it seems surreal, but here i am, penning down places on the tube map. which looks more or less like the sketched to-do list on my desk, with all its dots of things to do now, next, before, parallel, and then after.
and just then, between all those to-do-dots, i receive this mail, a request for a bio. not the usual one. "We ask you to be expressive of yourself as a writer/artist rather than just submitting a formal list of credits."
i sit. i think. i try to express myself as a writer/artist. and of course, end up wondering where i am actually headed to, exactly.
which makes me remember the novel i read a while ago - Pascal Mercier's "Nachtzug nach Lissabon" (Night train to Lisboa). it comes with this subversive little question:
"Wenn es so ist, daß wir nur einen kleinen Teil von dem leben können, was in uns ist - was geschieht mit dem Rest?"
"If it is that way, that we only can live a small part of all that is in us - what happens with the rest?"
i guess i will ponder on that in the L-train, and probably will get lost a bit, there, between Picadilly Circus, Chancery Lane and the Embankment (of Thoughts).
~
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