24 de mayo

Escribo la fecha y, lo primero que pienso, "no he pagado la renta".

Ayer había un bultito afuera de la puerta: el libro de Susan Sontag que tanto tiempo estuve esperando. Lo abro al azar, encuentro un pasaje del 8 de abril de 1949, me quedo prendada de él:

"This afternoon, I heard a lecture on 'The Function of Art and the Artist' by Anaïs Nin: she is very startling–pixie-like, other-worldly–small, finely-built, dark hair, and much make-up which made her look very pale–large, questioning eyes–a marked accent which I could not label–her speech is over-precise–she shines and polishes each syllable with the very tip of her tongue and teeth–one feels that if one were to touch her, she would crumble into silver dust."