Week 6

We only have one class this week. Does that mean I only need to write half as much? ha ha 
Who am I kidding? Two pages seems to be making itself my minimum. 
I have read 3 1/2 chapters of "A Room of One's Own." It is much more riveting than I remember it. Although last time I read it with much haste, the placed that I originally highlighted no longer register their importance to me. Now a completely new voice is emerging. Something has changed. Who was I when I read this the first time? Who am I now that I find an essay riveting? I feel as though she is talking directly to me this time. All my work on my blog trying to create valid arguments or write a days events in some entertaining way and now Virginia Woolf is saying "JD! It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top." My Grandmother used to sit at the edge of the lake while we swam and, being unable to swim, dipped only her feet into the water. The fish, the tiny ones, Virginia Woolf's thrown back thoughts used to swim up and nibble her tows. She usually watched them and wiggled her feet to shoo them away but when we stole her attention of her mind fell on memories or the beautiful day, we would hear the short, distinct squeak specific to our Grandmothers toes being nibbled without her consent, followed by shallow splashes as she sent those "fish into hiding"(from Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own)
Virginia Woolf said to me today, "JD, When an arguer argues dispassionately he" (she meant to say "she") "thinks only of the argument: and the reader cannot help thinking of the argument too. This is the explanation you've been looking for. This is what you are finding out" ... I wonder how big my fish will get... 


***Virginia Woolf has never referenced me personally in any of her essays. This is a journal entry and fantasy. Thank you for reading it as such.***