One Sunday afternoon about 15 years ago, I wandered into a panel discussion at The Brooklyn Public Library just as Carmen Boullousa, the Mexican poet and novelist, was being asked a question. “How do you write?” the questioner asked. Carmen Boullousa threw her hands up in the air and slammed them down on the table in front of her.
Life Blindsided Me and Then I Learned to See
Life Blindsided Me and Then I Learned to See
Life Blindsided Me and Then I Learned to See
One Sunday afternoon about 15 years ago, I wandered into a panel discussion at The Brooklyn Public Library just as Carmen Boullousa, the Mexican poet and novelist, was being asked a question. “How do you write?” the questioner asked. Carmen Boullousa threw her hands up in the air and slammed them down on the table in front of her.