Trying to read Zephyrs of the Najd, that go strangely slow, and finish an old article on crux transmarina, that somehow I was not able to finish the last ten years or so. This one will travel as far as Bucharest. I feel strangely demotivated, even if I was moderately glad with "Transforming minority" yesterday. Perhaps I reach the limit of "research article" as a genre. Something needs to change in my intellectual life. Even if I recon I still did not reach the top of how good a research article may be. There have been some I liked. But have I ever been a true artist in this?
Perhaps I need a delve in a personal idea of humanities, stop doing those featureless, impersonal things. I still didn't find a formula of essay, formula of writing with which I might identify fully. The search goes on...