in november

"During a short and violent thunderstorm Mymble had become completely and utterly electric. Sparks flew from her hair and every little bit of down on her arms and legs stood on end and quivered. Now I'm full of ferocity, she thought. I could do anything, but instead I'll do nothing. Isn't it marvelous to just do what one feels like. She curled up on the eiderdown, feeling like a tiny flash of ball lighting, a ball of fire." I think it would be an ideal project to make a body of work from Tove Jansson's writing. I can see just how beautiful it would be. I wonder if I will ever do it.