I’ve reasoned a thorough cleaning of everything in the writer’s life, from the desk’s top, to my teaching, to my prose-form, to where and how I store my pens. Everything. Cluttered life is cluttered mind. Something I used to tell or share with students. Yet another preaching I rarely if ever practiced.
Spoke with another adjunct today about Bob Coleman. She too studied under him. I thought of him, his passion, presence. That’s where I need to be— traveling overseas for research, collection of data, documents. An academic, yes, but more so directly a serious, devoted thinker.