On finding the sacred

“Yesterday was a strange, hurried, uncentred day; yet I did not have to go out, the sun shone.” ¹

My journal is full of May Sarton. I am transcribing the pages I’d turned down as I read. At this moment, 50 years ago, she is dealing with a difficult review in the NYT. She is trying to undo her sense of worth as an artist from a critic’s perspective of her …