“Lo, I have lost my ertia, and am now ert.” --The Golux (paraphrased)

I have been in a bit of self-diagnosed lull recently, and that’s probably being a bit hard on myself. I bought a few CDs (Built to Spill Live and Von spring to mind) and have been doing some reading (Fuks in Czech and some Ethan Canin. [If these last few sentences don’t draw Jef’s attention, I know not what will.] Still, in terms of writing, I haven’t been finding or making the time as in my madcap grove of the end of last month—but I probably shouldn’t be beating myself up too much.

But headed up to my mother’s for the day tomorrow and to Providence in a week and a half, both of which will be relaxing and hopefully productive. Refresh myself a bit. A few diversions. I’m taking…

And this is when I realize I make allusions to my own translations all the time, which seems silly, as no one’s read them. I’ve got something of a Nihilartikel going here, haven’t I? Well, I guess it exists; it’s just really, really, monumentally obscure. A literary hapax legomenon of sorts?

Yeah, these probably aren't the sort of pep talks to use to claw my way back into productivity. Ah, well.