But here I am, across the bay even, in town, working at Bard Coffee, my favorite coffee shop, not least for the fact that they play extremely excellent music that might as well be streaming off my hard drive. I have beautiful foam art on my coffee. The only trouble with Bard is that it is not near any of my favorite lunch places.
...and now, an hour later, I come back to finish this post. Because I happened to look over at the table next to me and saw a copy of Imago Mundi, the International Journal of the History of Cartography sitting at a nice gentleman's table, and proceeded to have a long conversation with a former boatbuilder turned graduate student in cartography, finishing his dissertation on commercial Dutch maps of the 18th century.
So as I sat here in the cafe, working on edits to the Prester John novel, I just happened to make my camp next to a cartographer, and we talked about the evolution of the Prester John maps and how a map makes a thing real--once it's recorded on a map, everyone believes it. He even suggested some unreal cities from old African maps for my book. I seriously cannot deal with the awesomeness of life and my city. Sometimes you just wouldn't believe the serendipity. If I wrote that in a book it would seem so unrealistic and convenient.
I feel a little bit better about having woken up so early.