I empathize with the struggle. This is beautiful: “This much I knew: writing had become stupidly fucking difficult. Like squeezing tears from a stone.”
I haven’t walked the Neckar Insel in 55 years. The last time I visited Tübingen, in ‘98, I cried when I heard the bells of the Stiftskirche ring—I knew the sound; I had listened to it daily for 5+ years.
I empathize with the struggle. This is beautiful: “This much I knew: writing had become stupidly fucking difficult. Like squeezing tears from a stone.”
In the spirit of Hesse, I hope you find your bamboo grove!
I haven’t walked the Neckar Insel in 55 years. The last time I visited Tübingen, in ‘98, I cried when I heard the bells of the Stiftskirche ring—I knew the sound; I had listened to it daily for 5+ years.