doppler published

Back from Napa.  Jack asleep upstairs.  Will post waterfront writing I did on the other side, later tonight.  Cross-breeze on lower level here in condo.  Typing fast as I’m on 2nd cup brewed here in home.  New book idea, thought of during session on that bench, under petite tree [Napa].

6 days till the best semester of my teaching career lifts off.

Just posted what I wrote yesterday for pedagogy blog.  Sometimes forget about that, which is shameful.  But with approaching semester, it’s been in-thought quite a bit.  Tempted to take a nap, but I won’t.  No time for sleep, especially with all in revolution, currently.  Gardening crew arriving, with their beastly lawnmowers, trimmers, plant torturers.

Coffee, starting to startle the writer.  Sipping slower.  Just need to print these lectures, syllabi now.  What to do–  Curse these grounds people.  Know they have a job 2do, but don’t they know how easily nerved we penners be?  Seems as though they come, go.  Which makes them even more annoying.  The book, on mind.. thinking of just finding 201 pages, loosely editing, binding, then boasting I have some work to sell.  At this point in Life, why-bloody-not?  I’ll get through all the unused writings much quicker if I go 200+pgs/effort.

Loving this breeze.  Reminds me of summers, Oregon, with Auntie Linda & Uncle Stevie.  Seems like forever ago.  How did I get so old, I’m asking Self?  Why did I let Self GET old?  At least I’m fighting back now, with more writing and all this running.  Speaking of.. doing the Lawndale run again tomorrow.  So no intervals today.  Which is a boon, believe, as I need to put dents in writings.  This book.  BOOKS, BOOKS.. just think of that, them.  Chapbooks, while quick and easy, don’t demonstrate what I’d like to be seen from my sittings.  Raw, obsessive, exhaustive WRITING.


written at napa’s riverfront:  8/14/13– Walk along Soscol.  In old territory.  Belonging to Them, at box.  Or, so they arrogantly accept.  Today it’s mine.  All.  MINE.  On bench, shaded by small, kind shy tree, riverfront.  Working on something, those men on barge.  All shops behind me, with their modernized marina makings, closed.

= So glad I didn’t bring laptop.  Am lovably light.  But could be lighter.  Should have only brought little pages– or no, no that wouldn’t have worked.  This Comp Book feels more like a canvas, like I’m a tourist drawing what I see.

= Tourists, 3 women, behind me talking.  One taking pictures of buildings, water, shops, alleys between these new structures [I think].  Now.. I stop, to intake river.  Imagining it’s the Seine.  Or not.  No.  Accept it’s the Napan waters.  All embraced from this metal bench.  What time is it?  Who cares.

= Odd smell.  Pollution?  Environment?  Polluted environment?

= Would love to live in a loft, or have office in one.. building behind me.  View.  Space.  Add to listing wishes.

= Book: No chapters; continuous; time stamps on last line [w/content].

= More photos…  Use to push writings 4ward.  Tempted to go to Roasting Co, but no.

= Wine Train honking.  Need 2do 1 of these days.  Maybe write, or “blog[yuck]” about it.

= Man riding by on bike, British accent, singing.

= Back at dealership, from my 3rd & Main bench.  Was told the car’s almost done.  Smell coffee, hear country music.  Where’s the restroom?  Have to do the Wine Train someday.

Add to curiosity list [w/Astronomy, French, boating]: cars, cooking.

= 4 other people in here w/me.  Quiet, uncomfortable.  2 reading, 2 on devices.  And then me, the odd one writing.

= Have to pick up wine on way back, for Ms. Lisa, Jack’s sitter.  12 chard, 3 cab, 3 zin.

1:50pm.  Grounds crew, still infuriating me.  Think the writer need something upon which to snack.  In Paris, I’d have one of those omelets, with a polite glass of some Rhône Rosé.  Surprised by all the writing I’ve injected into this B&W Comp Book since May of last year, when Kerouac was just coming up on 3mos.  Upstairs, still, my little Artist sleeps

3:59pm.  Want to get in 3 miles before day’s end.  Can I do it?  Yes.  Allotting 25 minutes to do so, which’ll be humorously easy, with my current paces.

9:16pm.  Decaf, some dark chocolate bit (tiny sea salt crystals, interior).  Just went outside.. ambient temp, just what I like from summer eves.  If it’s too hot tomorrow, I won’t do Lawndale, rather some course around the condo.  Speaking of this castle, I want to get us out.. what’s the quickest way?  Through blogged efforts, or books?  Consider overhead alone: this blog, close to nothing, including advertising, exposure.  To Self-print even a 61-page effort, on 15 copy run.. I’d have to budget just over $100.  Which isn’t that much, I know, but the blog’s estimate looks much more sensible.  Need a sip, bite of the chocolate, which I’m not sure I like as much as the winery’s complimentary bites in TR.

Conflicted, in my devotion to pen2paper vs. easiness of this blog.  The content, Literary, it’s as Me as ME canB.  But, it’s not a page.  Maybe I need to let that go for now.  It can be a page, someday.  Maybe this is where my publishing aims begin, with this blog.  Perhaps the OX need spend more time in BOTTLE.

At end of decaf cup.  Thinking about all these dreams differently.  But I want to get my family out from this condo, soon.  No, much sooner than ‘soon’.  “Soon” could mean anything, allowing the dreamer procrastination.  SO, I want it sooner than soon.  Surely within a year.

Near 1,000 words.  Closing session in further thought.  And the semester’s nearness helps.  AND, the fact that no wine tonight’s been poured.  May do same tomorrow night, but who knows, knowing me.  With outside’s temp, a glass or 3 of Blair’s Rosé would serve amazingly.  On that upper deck of Sunriver’s Lodge.  Dreaming.. added to list.

By the way: fit in 2.4 miles today, in this unexpected heat.  (8/14/13)