O
Octopus Messiah
Guest
Last night I handed a friend a book to be read.
First one in fifteen years I've felt happy sharing.
I'd like to think I'm better now than I was then, as a man and as a writer. More open, less judgmental.
It's a rare and precious thing, a finished piece of art, especially one that's taken many months to craft.
My wife counsels "Don't be attached to outcomes."
Which is wise and Buddhist but also hard.
Because now a different type of work begins. One that I am not alone in finding much more challenging.
Colony, I feel you.
Maktub. It is written
x
(photo from a tiny corner of Malaysian Borneo, in one of the last remaining bastions of the orang utan, meaning "people of the forest")
First one in fifteen years I've felt happy sharing.
I'd like to think I'm better now than I was then, as a man and as a writer. More open, less judgmental.
It's a rare and precious thing, a finished piece of art, especially one that's taken many months to craft.
My wife counsels "Don't be attached to outcomes."
Which is wise and Buddhist but also hard.
Because now a different type of work begins. One that I am not alone in finding much more challenging.
Colony, I feel you.
Maktub. It is written
x
(photo from a tiny corner of Malaysian Borneo, in one of the last remaining bastions of the orang utan, meaning "people of the forest")