Jim Harrison and Me
This is my first blog entry. I ask myself why I’m committing to writing to you, dear reader, as regularly as if you were the ideal mother back when I should have written home and didn’t. I imagine you as my ideal reader, glad to get a letter from me. This arrogance is what keeps most of us writing, either that, or the fear that we only exist if we keep bringing attention to ourselves. In my case, I’d add that I’m inclined toward dreaminess, and I’m more apt to locate myself on this mortal plane if I hammer it down with my words. Besides, my mind and my fingertips have such a...
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