Week 6
Sand on the freeway.
It is the only way to beat that cycle.
Geologies become geometry.
Not used to sharing things.
The flavor pinecone (no pineapple) and invisible knitting.
"I like toys better than people." "Me too."
I think the past is more in the past now.
Vile and delicious.
We are having "rest time."
Wasn't something I wanted to do, but easy once I did it.
Or is it my memory changes?
But I think there might be a meaning beyond meaning.
The energy states that steady creativity creates is it's own purpose.
"I kind of looked there."
Tried to get a clean glass and it smells like vinegar.
There is no explanation for this.
Maybe I don't need to drink.
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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.
