Due to unforseen circumstances, I have been unable to write to you since I have arrived in Moscow. But finally, here I am. I am a compulsive journal-er, and could sit and write forever. My problem, though, is that often, I am filled with inspiration but have not a pen... or paper... and I commit the horrible crime of not capturing words, motions, and emotions in their time, before they slip out of mind forever, or the memories lose their potency. I will try my best to recall for you the beauties and wonders, great and small. I will try to display for you the world I have seen lately as vividly as when I was first struck by its inspiration. I say "struck" because inspiration is not always a sweet spirit descending as a dove...
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