Italian phrases and Bali dreams,
Elizabeth, between and betwixt,
Sometimes as slippery as a fish...
I’ve spent so much time these last years wondering what I’m supposed to be. A wife? A
mother? A lover? A celibate? An Italian? A glutton? A traveler? An artist? A Yogi? But I’m not
any of these things, at least not completely. And I’m not Crazy Aunt Liz, either. I’m just a slip-
pery antevasin—betwixt and between—a student on the ever-shifting border near the wonder-
ful, scary forest of the new.
Eat, Pray, Love