Via Lizard10979Looking, smelling, touching, tasting. For me, the Farmers Market is a party of the senses.…
Susanna Harwood RubinAugust 10, 2010
“I remember one year of my life that was particularly challenging. I wrote every day, much of it banal, boring, self-absorbed, and composed of sloppy prose that was intended for no one’s eyes-not really even my own, because the act of writing was a purging. Whatever traces of my activity that remained on the page when I was finished were already irrelevant to me. I drew something out of my mind by giving it a form outside of myself. The act of inscribing was what was significant, not the evidence of the act. At the end of the year I shredded almost all of it.” — SHR