Week 21
Then he's also giving me peanuts.
I had no idea at all that we were in danger.
A man who knows facts about everything.
"I have no country."
"I am here to save a secret from being dug up."
Then I walked into a key.
We are in a treehouse.
Door after door after door.
It's possibility seems itself impossible.
"May I ask what earthquake caused your mind to work?"
The last day of winter.
we can't make the same mistakes as other people
I don't think I know the kind of person who knows jokes.
David Brazil: "The opportunity perhaps fades of doing something decisive, but was that ever any thing but a fantasy anyway?"
If there are eyes, something must be created for them to see?
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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.
