NOTES FROM A PRIVILEGED LOCKDOWN

DAY 9 Just a random figure, really. It could be 12 or 16.
By now I have but a very vague idea of what day of Lockdown, of the week, of the month it is.
Losing track of time is a good sign I guess, when you are on vacation –
(word that comes from the Latin term “vacatio”: void ).

Hence today I try to make this “void” of work, social interaction, and life perspective into a sort of unplanned “vacation”.

Traveling is a state of mind, so I turn myself into an incarnation of the “accidental tourist”: a stationary traveler into my own home and history.

I shall explore my territory inch by inch (I mean centimeters, but inches sound better), and my past memory by memory.
I will linger on the marvelous details of certain under -appreciated objects, re-live the memory captured in some old photos, and find meaningful reminders in plain sight.

Then tonight as I fall asleep I will put that together and add it to my pretend imaginary CV for my Final Departure, and convince a Commission made up by Saint Peter, Shiva, Atahualpa, Manitou and Jupiter,
that they should consider my application.

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