Puuurrrr

The fields, the caves, the dens of memory cannot be counted; their fullness cannot be counted nor the kinds of things counted that fill them . . . I force my way amongst them, even as far as my power reaches, and nowhere find an end.
Augustine, Confessio

This is for you:

"But life is wakings-up, all unexpected, all surprising. On a certain November afternoon, twelve years ago, from a certain nap (why that day? Why that nap?) she awakened from sleeping from eyes-closed, blankets-up-to-chin, pillow-sleep Sophie awakened or had awakened, for good. As though someone (while she slept) had stolen them, her powers of sleeping and escaping into the small dreams within the large had gone away; and Sophie, startled and lost, had had to dream from then on that she was awake, and that the only world was around her, and to think what to do with it. It was only then, because her sleepless mind had to have an Interest, that (without any hard question, without any question at all) she had taken up the study of cards, beginning at the beginning humbly as Cloud's tutee."

Little Big, John Crowley

In many ways I feel a strong connection to Sophie, maybe I just need to focus on my Interest and it will allow my dreams to become the reality. To finally be fully awoken from that dream of being awake.

XXX