After Anne Carson’s reading last night, Chris and I left quickly. We didn’t stick around to get anything signed (although I had brought Autobiography of Red, and I bought Nox there). There were people there I liked and would normally have talked to over a glass of wine or a beer, but we left for the same reason that we drove home after watching Tree of Life in silence. Sometimes you see or hear or are a part of something that alters your brain just slightly, just enough to make you not want anything else to invade that new mental space for a little while.
Give me an hour, you think. Don’t talk to me for an hour or two. Let me stay in that place just until I fall asleep.
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