Author: Anne Enright
The author goes to literature (Kafka's cockroach man) and painting (Rouault) in her freakish moments of trying to absorb the motherhood quirks.
Pelvis as chalice.
Waiting for the water to break she feels like a Burco boiler with the tap left open.
The author when slipping into sleeps describes it as 'I have untied my little boat and gone floating downstream'. How relaxing is that. All those days when sleep is hard to arrive, we might be stuck in the dock with many other boats around. This morning during the shower, I imagined myself being in a green forest at that moment.
Kidney dish
Kidney dish
