Feeling the shape

As days go by, the little rag is slowly taking on a shape. Or rather I feel the shape the book is going to become.
It is so wonderful.

I've understood that this book may never be finished. It will probably take mOst of my life to complete it. And my little life isn't enough. I'm too young to see clearly the implications of what you say, what you do, Beloved Little Rag. I don't have a writer's skill. With time and work and thought, maybe my writing abilities will improve ; perhaps not.

A book's title is hard to find. Of course it could be anything, because a title isn't the most important thing for a novel. Why not call the rag : "Chickens and the eulogy of toothpastes" ?
No...That can't do. The rag's title must say the essential about the book.
At first, I called it : "Regis Pugna".
Then "L'enfant de l'eau" (child of water). Then : "L'enfant des bulles" (child of bubbles). For now it's something like : the little rag.
Will it take one, two or three books? Who cares.

I know that snow and music are the keys to your heart, Llu. Snow, especially snow. I still don't know why. Snow's the key. And so the book will prepare the Meeting : rag and snow reunited.
A grand novel, about my favorite themes : toothpaste, trees, music, pigeons, skies, windows....and yours : snow, the Moon, ice, candies, music, tales, ...
What it will look like in the end, I wonder.

A baby in the cradle.