green turtle island

On bed rest again, with a flu this time. I might be imagining this but I don’t think I used to come down so hard with viruses? My hunch is that previous covid infections have lowered my immune system or something. The fever has been the worst and makes me kind of delirious.

Eleanor reads The Faraway Tree to me when I’m bored. She has a really nice reading voice. I try to fix all my attention on the story and go to that place I could easily go to in childhood — the suspension in imagination and narrative. I wonder if this is a similar kind of place as Janet Frame’s mirror city?

Right in the middle of and trying to capture a moment of floating outside of time and untethered from all the narratives I've constructed my life with/through.

Sitting here drinking my morning tea and reading what on any other day would be interesting to me and instead thinking it is all so silly. Distracted by white butterflies outside. My skin prickles and I sort of move outside of the constant grip of rationality which is embedded in my psyche and hover over there with the insects for a moment.

Happy for the plants that it rained.

My ethics/irb application has finally been approved and I can start recruiting for interviews here in California...!