I am not a scholar. I know that now.
I am middle-aged.
I have pursued no discipline, field, or “area of knowledge” to its limits.
“Core literature.”
Librarian. “Litterateur” (awful sound). These.
Exploring fields: science, literature, philosophy, history, critical thought – through the “core literature” – the Canons of the Field.
Only so far.
Not to the ends.
What a novelist needs. Knowledge a little beyond average, a little obsessive, a little “never satisfied.”
A librarian: able to discourse with “Scholars” in any field – enough terminology, vocabulary, “core knowledge.”
“Jack of all trades, king of none.”
Yes, that.
Librarian. Litterateur. (I don’t know what else to call it).
Me.
Degrees in Classical Music, Theology, Philosophy, Information Science, Art & Critical Thought.
It’s something.
But not “scholarship”.
Core Knowledge.
Trying to be human.
Trying to know what I need to know to be that.
Trying to be.
Polysemic Stupor 
Hooray!
And indeed, you are.
(Be faithful Go) and I remind myself also.
Hi you. Thank you. Begin..ning…again.
A scholar focuses in, magnifies, gets lost in, gets lost, teases apart. You, perhaps, float on the waves, tasting the spray. A matter of wider perspective, of not fitting into a nice catogorization, un-pigeoned, a failure to be recognised as a success at a labelled thing. Not forgetting the heart beats at different speeds…
Ahhh that’s kind Simon. Merci.
That ink over you, swaddles you, and I love it.
Thank you 🙂