seethingblue's Diaryland Diary

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ann patchett & lucy grealy

I stayed up until 3 in the morning to finish Truth & Beauty by Ann Patchett. I cried at the very end, inevitably. I feel now that Lucy is someone I know intimately, a friend or even a part of myself. She lived recklessly but loved tightly, almost stifingly tight. She sat in laps, wrapped her narrow arms around friends, curled up delicately on surfaces and wept.

Clearly, the only thing that makes me happy is writing a poem that someone will love and want to hear again and again.

But I feel like even the experience of friendship trumps this happiness. It creates a complexity of emotion that transcends happiness. I feel like Patchett captured this perfectly. I feel like I must now go to Nashville, bang on her door, and confess my envy and admiration of her writing.

Instead, I'll peel a bulbuous orange and contemplate a new hair cut.

13:09 - 12 April, 2006

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