Sepia Tinged Pages

I wonder if Truman Capote would have had a two sentence a day blog? Or Hemmingway? Or Fitzgerald? Did they retain a purity of vision by remaining aloof from bureaucratic institutional life? a mortgage? the suburbs? settled relationships?

The guy across from me at Angel Falls this morning is reading a biography about Capote and when I first saw it I was whelmed by all the sentiment I used to have idealizing / idolizing the modern writers.

The romance hasn't diminished by the distance between where and who I am at 41 seems vastly far from anyplace they'd have been. I mean, they probably would have been here at Angel Falls Coffee had they been in Akron for any good reason, but these moments of pause are strange:

*recollection* is a strange word.

Looking at old collections.

Collections of hopes, ideals, dreams and futures.

Of course they don't look anything like any daily grind, but do they look like the best moments of the now?

Maybe they do. I'll get back to you on that.

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