Week ending October 17
Squash soup, striped bread, and three orange slices.
I walked to another city.
Dreamt a prophetic dream but it was not dreamt by me, and so I can't remember it.
The only healing is healing within the body itself.
Two birds flying in opposite directions.
I felt the hectic energy too much.
Sometimes the rain makes you feel bent out of shape, but it is good for you.
It turned out to be real but I thought I was having a vision until I got up close.
Soda-tax
"I'm seeing a whole wall of sugar here."
I have to be brave.
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About Diary of a 36th Year
I started writing in a paper journal right after my 36th birthday in October, 2008; it has become a collage of scrapbooking, diary writing, a lady's common place book, printed out web articles and blog entries, photos and pictures, poems, dreams, emails, lists, receipts, found items... What is excerpted here is the less embarrassing, and more textual fragments thereof.
Never, never forgetting Anais Nin, with an eye toward Joanne Kyger's journals & journal poems, and remembering Virginia Woolf's insistence that everything must be documented, the diary blog is a palimpsest of new narrative, old narrative, and post modern collage styles.
Updated every Sunday.
Never, never forgetting Anais Nin, with an eye toward Joanne Kyger's journals & journal poems, and remembering Virginia Woolf's insistence that everything must be documented, the diary blog is a palimpsest of new narrative, old narrative, and post modern collage styles.
Updated every Sunday.
