1,000 words to novel this morning. Alice and little Kerouac are at her, Alice’s friend’s house for a morning workout and for Jack to play with their daughter on some incredible swingset. And I’m here with my coffee that I rushed to get at the Hopper Whore House, that corporate coffee brothel– MY mood this morning, calm but determined.. making sure I stay in this novel.. so the novel, this journal or blog, then the ‘yrownjoy’ pages.. I’ll sell those. I can’t write on command, or do contract copy work. 1, I don’t have the time to research how to post and the website hosting and research Trip Advisor and Yelp reviews.. that won’t get me into the pages of the Paris Review, or the New Yorker, or the NYT.. that’s not who I want to be. Hope Shana won’t be mad, but I have to prep for summer alongside my personal writing aims.
Mom read one of my entries from the other day and is convinced my rattle warns predators and anyone around me away. Maybe that day, but this morning not so. I know who this writer is and I know what I see, I know what Emerson inferred about Poets and Scholar and those paragraphs sync with my scope, certainly. And another note: I get frustrated when my blog doesn’t function as I want it to, and now I’d have to learn some other site’s innerworkings? When does the writer have time for that?
Should get in the shower. Can’t wait to have some of that coffee today, at work, the type the chef brought down from the kitchen.. need to find out what type, take a still with my phone and buy some for this Autumn Walk base– oh Autumn Walk.. we have such a story to write.. I can see now: me here, writing full-time, having the whole day here in my new home to finish chapter and drink coffee like it’s something healthy to do and listen to hours of Hutcherson, Davis, Monk, Rollins….. Then when 5 arrives, open a Sauv Blanc, have Mom and Dad over, just as Alice and Jack get home, then we’re out front on the porch watching all the other children occupy and infest the small street. There’s a story here, one building, one rebuilding and nurturing, promulgating for my pages…..
8:44.. have to get ready soon but I don’t mind, and that’s one of Zen’s intentions as I understand it or at least the intention behind its practice, idea and place, no? Je dois étudier plus. (I have to study more.) Of everything: Zen, French, Literature, Theory, teaching, Kerouac and Hemingway and Sedaris and Plath.. Poe.. Faulkner….. Be a student, a real student again!
So quiet in the Autumn Walk zone, now, and I think about how hot it’s to be today. How busy the Room may be and how wonderful Chardonnay would taste if this heat were with me in Sunriver, with Mom and Dad or in Paris, or in India, in a highrise like Amber had.. think Alice & J are home, shift–