“Ninety percent of writing is simply the pot boiling. The real work is letting it boil for hours and patiently distilling its essence.” (Camilla Gibb)
I’m not sure how long my pot has been boiling, or when its
essence will be distilled. But it’s back on the burner. Writing and thinking happen more at a simmer than a boil in my experience. Low and slow have served me well in my kitchen and at my desk.
Winter is a good time to find yourself caught in overwhelm’s clutches. You can seek solace in socially sanctioned hibernation. You can putter and ponder and warm body and soul with bottomless bowls of soup. And, when the time is right, you can embrace the renewal offered by winter’s close in principle if not in practice.
Spring is more of a theoretical category than a lived reality on my side of the Atlantic. I imagine I’ll be eating this hearty soup for a few more weeks before our not-quite-winter-or-spring finally concedes defeat and I retire it for the summer.
Until then, may as well keep the pot on a little longer while I continue to distill the essence of my winter work.