The leaf was green for just a moment before it shrivelled and died

To continue on with these leaf analogies that admittedly even I'm struggling to follow, just as I feel as though I've caught a glimpse of the deep colour of this leaf and am about to hold it in my palm, it turns to brown dust and slides through my fingers. It's the last day of the festival, and I have bronchitis. As wise historians have noted "ain't no body got time for dat." So I'm feeling quite run down as I go into my next reading and half way into Isobel Carmody's talk I start coughing so uncontrollably that I'm forced to leave. The same thing happens in my next session, and I finally give up on trying to be in public today and go home to bed.
Thankfully, the insightful Carmody gives enough to ponder in just half an hour.

During the time that I was able to breathe and listen to her I had the chance to ask her a question. It's not as if this question was burning inside my brain but I really wanted to step outside of my comfort zones a little and become immersed in the festival by being a part of the conversation. So, when they hand me the microphone I say "there is a lot of repetition within story lines, particularly in the young adult genre, do you ever feel resentful towards new writers who seem to adopt ideas you've previously written within their text? Do you ever struggle to come up with new ideas, knowing they might have already been written?" Not too bad of a question, if I do say so myself. Her response was intelligent and insightful and very Carmody-esk, explaining how she writes as the story comes to her and never pays a thought to anyone else's stories, and that as long as other writers are writing the same way and being honest to their own ideas and thoughts then she would never feel resentful.
Alongside this one other idea of hers resonates and stays with me: "Your parents and your family forms you... but you will be free." I understand that when she says this she's talking to the high school students present but this discussion, surrounding what cages you and forms you as a person particularly speaks to me. I believe that book lovers and art lovers feel deeper than most people, and Carmody speaks to her audience in a way that resonates with these types of thinkers, appealing to their sense of wonderment and self discovery. I particularly enjoy listening to her talks, and through the coughing a spluttering I manage to breathe enough (outside of the auditorium) to wait and snap a picture with her after her talk.