Pola in Ponderland

Hello Escritori,

I left the bookshop just after New Year and then immediately convened to be with my friend, drink tea and muse on life.

I had a pot of tea with the cream left over from my friend’s big slice of lemon meringue pie. I never normally have cream and felt a curious mixture of decadence and gluttony which was less pleasant. The cream was in a jug so I was elegant about it. There was something so therapeutic about pouring the tea that I wanted to attain a state of Zen through this timeless ritual.

Isn’t ‘meringue’ the funniest word to spell? Even if I’ve got it right the first time I feel like I have to check, in case I’ve mixed it up with the dance or the music…

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The day began rainy, but it was the kind of rain with pearly clouds and sunshine that would be the perfect celestial recipe for a rainbow. It felt like spring already and I was so glad. I had my pale blue umbrella too, as a simulacrum of the sky.

I love the French word for rainbow: arc du ciel – arch of sky. Far more creatively architectural than the English. Why would God want to string bows up in Heaven? Surely God is very anti-warfare?

I read the year over, in my journal, and it packed such an emotional punch around stress and work, incomplete creative writing and whether should I advance into nuptials and then finally how nice the book shop was; that I couldn’t even be vivaciously Wildean about it: ‘I never travel without my diary. One must always have something sensational to read on the train.’

(That, guys, is just the sort of gauche retort I would pass off as my own.)

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After hearing me wax philosophical, sentimental and a little wan about how I hadn’t been SERIOUSLY Manic this year but I had put a lot of emotional stress on myself, my friend said:

“I think I know what you ought to do if you don’t think you can write much. You need to read.”

Recently I have realised that I don’t have to be a book hoarder because although I don’t have that many books (people are always shocked by this) there were a few titles that no longer expressed me.

So these went to the charity shop and I breathed new life into my bookshelf. It was very renewing and it also means that I may also be far more ‘on point’ here about bookish things if I actually have new books to talk about.

As for life, it will only get ‘curiouser and curiouser’ but I can be vastly comforted by the fact that ‘we’re all mad here’ at The Escritorium.

Keep scribbling.

~ Pola ~

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