I’ve been sitting outside on the balcony before the sun is up most mornings, then again in the evenings as it’s going down, and I think I know the sun a little better than I ever have, and its daily transitions from blue to yellow, yellow to blue.
I had planned to teach a class this fall (called “Autofiction, the Hybrid Self”) but my schedule has become overfull and the class for now will happen only in my notebook and conversations with myself. So (instead of to my now totally fictional class) I want to point anyone in the mood for writing with others to some offerings at Vocational Poetics, and please read this transmission from Alex Toy — “I decided to be candid with my students today about art as work, and about taking that work seriously. I want them to know that they will have to protect their work from the demands of their lives, because most other people won’t take them seriously for dedicating themselves to it.”
In a limited way but sincere way I’ve been involved in watching this project take shape, and now you can (almost) preorder the finished product, which I have seen in galley form … it is a very nicely designed and laid-out book object filled with strange and delightful stories. (And I think these are the best times to be accompanied by strange and delightful stories.)
I started working at a medical massage clinic and though the job is new, the work feels like something my hands have known for a long time how to do. (My arms get very tired!)
I’m taking a trip to New Mexico soon and have been preparing by looking at the Georgia O’Keefe book Brian gave me. The balcony floor collects light and stays warm into the evening, and sometimes I lie on it and absorb an entire corpus.
I’m on the balcony now — I’ll publish this next to the nasturtiums. Please let me know what you’ve been eating, what kind of tea you’ve been drinking, where you like to sit when you don’t want to look anymore at your phone. What does that place sound like?
<3 <3