I woke with a dream about an old boyfriend. Never got around to my pages. Puttered here til it was past rush hour and headed to Salem, where I promptly locked my keys in the mini-van. Somehow, it didn’t do me in. Just called a guy. I was mostly worried about being distracted around my sister, which can be a set up for disaster. Today it was fine. The sun exhausted me on the drive home. It was almost as if I was about to fall asleep at the wheel, but really it was just a squinting weariness brought on by the intense glare. I said OM TARA TUTARE TURE SWAHA for myself on the way up, and for the boys on the way down. I am wondering what is making me so draggy right now. The state of my sister’s health? Maybe. It’s never good. The empty house, wondering who’ll show up for dinner? Nah, I’m used to that. A long, hot walk with Finn? No! That’s good. India Flint’s new book arriving and being blown away by her work and feeling more than a little inadequate? Yeah, definitely. Some sore spot opening up. And this blog. I think I have to take more risks. Just have to. Or I will bore myself into silence. I plan to publish (yes, that IS the right word) some of the sketch-writing done in my class over the last year and a half. It will be scary — really scary — but I think it’ll add some much needed immediacy. Until the novel is done, I don’t really feel comfortable talking about THAT process, which is too bad because it takes up a fair portion of every day. Maybe I need to rethink that, too?
And recipes. Why not? Isn’t this MY blog?! I just want to just throw them into the mix and tag them well so that the boys will be able to find them — both will be cooking on their own this year.
Let yourself be tired. Hey, I think I might start a blog…
It can be this conversational. I AM vegging out. But then I usually do at this hour!
I haven’t been reading anyone’s blog lately…barely posting to mine for many of your reasons, especially wrting about writing. I hate being coy, but sometime’s it’s all I’ve got. And we are irked by some ot the same things.
I don’t think it’s coy to want to protect a process while it needs that. So different from sharing a cloth-in-progress. Also. I’ve always cared more about writing so maybe that too makes it harder to reveal stuff about.
I love that black heart with the red bird!
Hmmmm. The red run Mexican heart? Not sure what you’re referring to?
the last photo?
No bird there but I’m not surprised that you might see one!