A year ago today I was holding an already battered notebook in hand and writing down Bukowski’s poem as if my life depended on it. It was a few weeks after my first ever workshop, and was missing those days fiercely. Those days changed my life. It was my point of no return. Until today I do not know what I’ve done to be this lucky.
I have just listened to this
symphony which Mozart dashed off
in one day
and it had enough wild and crazy
joy to last
Mozart came as close as