Meditations from the first days of a blank new life.

Savoring Samsara



I looked at all my things laid out in front of me and felt a sense of wonder at how they painted the picture of my life. Three suitcases played out on K’s reading room floor. A sea of black, white, and red fabric, my pots and pans, my kitchen knife, my favorite wooden spoon stained yellow from turmeric, the camera I bought for my trip to Istanbul, a notebook with the saddest love letter I ever wrote inside, another notebook with the plot of my next novel inside, two bottles of fountain pen ink -one red,one black- a pair of my father’s old surgical scrubs that remind me of the smell of hospital and orange and cedar cologne. I’d give a lot to know what scent my father wore. I’ve never known the name. It comes in a dark green glass bottle more elegantly tapered than Ralph Lauren…

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