. The Rotunda . SCENE DURING LAWN FETE SATURDAY WRITING ONES THOUGHTS They say, Oh, just write whatevercomes into your mind—any subject,formal or informal. You ponder onthis for perhaps a day, or it may beonly a few hours. Then you go toyour room fully convinced that youwant to write .something, but notwholly certain what it is you want towrite. You sit at your table—notebookopen, with a clean white page beforeyou and your pen in hand—ready,expectant, in fact, waiting for aninspiration. You continue to sit. Whileyou axe waiting you look out of thewindow and gaze musingly at theblue sky and the
. The Rotunda . SCENE DURING LAWN FETE SATURDAY WRITING ONES THOUGHTS They say, Oh, just write whatevercomes into your mind—any subject,formal or informal. You ponder onthis for perhaps a day, or it may beonly a few hours. Then you go toyour room fully convinced that youwant to write .something, but notwholly certain what it is you want towrite. You sit at your table—notebookopen, with a clean white page beforeyou and your pen in hand—ready,expectant, in fact, waiting for aninspiration. You continue to sit. Whileyou axe waiting you look out of thewindow and gaze musingly at theblue sky and the thick cotton-likeclouds. The longer you look at theblue sky the more you may want towrite a poem about the featheryclouds, sailing oer the majestic you decide that, No, I nevercould write poetry and theres nouse in starting now. So you dismissthat thought in all finality. You sitand chew the end of your pen. Youwait a few more minutes—alwayshoping that by mere chance an in-spiration will happen
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidlongwoodcoll, bookyear1920
