…the spark of an idea for a piece called Pretty Little Poet.
I purchased a new-to-me vintage typewriter in the Short North district of Columbus from a woman who has sold typewriters to Tom Hanks. She met the original owner of this particular one who, decades ago, had typed her very first resumé on it. It is still in perfect working condition and I was excited to have a companion on the road that would never lose power like my laptop (it even came with its own carrying case). On the day I picked this up, my friend, Nora, and I hovered around this minty, magical device, trying to figure out how to change the ribbon and swooning over the clack-clack-clack of the keys. She (who I am calling Eleanor for now) was too heavy to take overseas and I’m anxiously awaiting our creative reunion.
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