How do we even define space? There is physical space, but also the mental and the metaphorical space. The space between two people or two things. The space that is out in the universe just there. Even the picture above has multiple kinds of space.
When I say that I am settling in to the new space, it has so many meanings. I am cleaning and rearranging “the cave”– what we call my sister’s room and what will be my room for the next two months. I am also adjusting to the new role that I will be playing in this metaphorical and timely space whil I am an unemployed student who’s not in school. A writer with no clue what to work on next. In this space I see no other option but to simply exist. To be.
Is it a question? Of course I will be, there is no question. For the other option (not being) holds no appeal to me. But this space. This time. The way point between two posts. There is so much of it that I cannot see the edge no matter which direction I look.
Far in the distance, on the horizon is Los Angeles (which I still can’t seem to spell right the first time). Beyond that?
More space.
I like how this post made me feel. My head feels like it’s been sitting in this weird void lately, so your words here resonated with me a lot.
Writing About Writing (week of January 7) « Rachel Ann
The Edge of This Space | Rachel Ann