Why does the water alway feel so damn cold, even though it isn’t, you’ll feel perfectly warm after you’ve been in it for a few minutes?
Evolution seems to have rendered us skeptical about immersion. Phase changes. Slipping back and forth across that aquatic boundary layer. Piercing the surface tension.
But oh, when you adjust, and your stupid skin stops shrieking, you are weightless and free and your nose does seem to be evolved for this space, nostrils pointed away from the flow as you pull your way through the water.
So this is just a quick note to let those who care about such things know that I am under water again, in the secondary creation after a few months shying away from that first blast of cold, mourning the end of the last project, in that time between when one wonders if one will ever do this thing again.
And finally you let yourself dive in, and finally you realize you’ll be swimming to the day you die, and how did you forget, that you are weightless here? How did you forget, that the water grows warm and your muscles loosen up and your sinuses get weirdly clear, and the sun on your back when you emerge feels wonderful?
Oh, I am having a lovely time, I wish you were here, and maybe you will be after the few weeks of work, followed by the one to twelve months of marketing, followed by the months to publication and distribution. Say a year or two.
Meanwhile last years output slowly winds through the system. Hope you get to see some more of that, too.
But you’re the greek chorus really.
Though I wouldn’t dream of doing this without you, either.
I know those statements are oddly paired.
But it’s the truth.
