I am sitting in the college library, studying my French and looking at film magazines and drawing lions. I wanted to draw lions with charcoal, but charcoal costs $4 at the bookstore and I don't have that. I have also been thinking about Native Americans, but that's a whole other post.
I wrote a story about a boy who loved a lion yesterday. It was really something. With peaches and love and Africa and the kind of sadness that lasts in your mouth when you go to bed. I think it was a good story. I also think it was a little farfetched. But I will pursue belief for my own work. If I don't, who will?
I think I am going to sketch on the upper level of the library, or work on my fairytale. And also look for Jonathan Safran Foer books. I am in that kind of mood. I might read that letter about Wind Wolf from his Father again. I am in that kind of mood too. It's my new favorite piece. I am going to hang it on my wall.
People fall in love, so why not with lions?
Here's the thing.
It's not so farfetched.
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