As I spend more and more time on the island, I care less and less about my appearance. Normally, I would ensemble an outfit like I would an abstract painting, but now I only have a pair of old green athletic shorts and a band T-shirt. The rest of my clothes are wet from spontaneous rains or just plain smell too bad. Really, I am doing my best to not smell like an armpit.
I am beginning to become stir-crazy. To completely engage in this solitude experiment, I really have done my best to stay on the island most of the time I have been here other than when I must blog in the visitors pavilion. However, recently I leave the island for hours on end to explore the woods, the white river, and the gardens. When I am on the island, there are still people sitting around the lake watching, but if I am off in the woods or exploring the gardens, I can kind of get away with “disappearing.” Sure I am still recognized from time to time in the park, but with the help of some sunglasses I can really disappear and be alone. No one watches your every move when you are just some stinky, disheveled girl in mismatched clothes.
The Knife Incident…
Yes, one of my favorite bands is the Knife. However, my wonderful, new, sharp knife is obviously not my best friend. Er, rather it is the type of friend who will stab you right in the back….er…thumb. Har. Anyway, as if the cicadas and mosquitoes were not enough of a sleep distraction, my newly injured hand made it impossible to sleep.