Sitting as it were– again– amid a sea of ashtrays I notice that it is 10:00 PM on a cold wintry night. Except that’s the last thing I’ve really been conscious of today. All day long I’ve been reciting in my brain a beginning sentence to a letter that I’m thinking of writing to my mother. It begins, Washington has been waiting for several days for it to snow. I think I’ll mention how the past few days have been building into a snow storm. I experience the weather about me from a mental perception. I experience by thinking about it and talking about it rather than “feeling”– “being aware of” the weather outside me.
January 8th, 1972
January 8th, 1972
January 8th, 1972
Sitting as it were– again– amid a sea of ashtrays I notice that it is 10:00 PM on a cold wintry night. Except that’s the last thing I’ve really been conscious of today. All day long I’ve been reciting in my brain a beginning sentence to a letter that I’m thinking of writing to my mother. It begins, Washington has been waiting for several days for it to snow. I think I’ll mention how the past few days have been building into a snow storm. I experience the weather about me from a mental perception. I experience by thinking about it and talking about it rather than “feeling”– “being aware of” the weather outside me.