After 2 hours of what was quite possibly the coldest walking tour of my life (even more so than the one in Iceland) waited out the snow storm here, in the Maison de la Litérature to indulge in a concentrated bout of writing. The church was converted from its former function as a lutheran church in the 1950s as a place dedicated to bridging the gap between readers and authors. One the ground level one can find a petite cafe and a multi-media center. Upstairs, the main floor is wholly dedicated to creating a free space for all aspects associated with writing.
Spent the day here shamelessly combing through all of the notes I’ve taken on various places, taking a mass inventory on of my experiences over the last few years in and out of the country. Spent a great deal of time fact-checking this draft as well as several others which are far from complete: Body in Quebec, Heart on the Bosphorus .
The punctuality of my posts will (more often than not) be the one to suffer in the balance between writing about life versus actually living it. Even so, I am just as grateful for storms as I am for good weather, because it gives me a chance to catch up!