Only Set

I should be working on an application to something, for something, but I’m not going to.  NOPE NOPE NOPE—  Not with all this free time, freeing time where I can be further freed.  Set my clock again, counting down 24 hours, right when I arrived at sbux this morning.  Cancelling run today so I can work in the home office, consolidate and brainstorm, and ACT.  When the 24 is up, I want something significant to material.  Away from what I don’t need and more toward what my Story requires.  Acquired ‘nother coffee from the cafeteria, so I have more than enough fuel.  Woke this morning to 4AM alarm, and what a shock I went right the fuck back to sleep.  Other adjunct in the shared office, and my laptop dwindles in power.. INVENTORY CURRENT:  Comp Book, laptop, wallet, phone, bag (inside of which is some straying papers, not many, pens and other life-pieces).  Relatively light today.  Key is to travel light as a writer, I’m finding.


Eight lectures; each lecture two pages, double spaced.

Planning and planning, now I switch mode from acting to always-acting.. and again, consolidate…

Other adjunct leaves room, I should go in, charge the laptop and plot rest of day.  Writing, finishing the awks letter.  Again, run cancelled.  Have to change my writing and professional life, and I will, watch, and in a drastic way, overnight, or 24 hours—

Keep sipping the coffee, I tell myself.  Don’t stop with the words, in any respect!  Told the students this morning that “You don’t always have time for a full sentence.   Sometimes a singular word will have to do.” I’m in that position, altogether.  Feel like if I take the time to fill out some app for a distant CC, I’be shedding writing time carelessly.  Stop deliberating!  Quiet in the conference room— written that before….  My photog’ buddy, Dav, on a travel for journalism’s purpose, for his studies.  Just what this writer targets.. should walk around the campus and just take pictures, then go for a drive, go through all the material and write from there.  He’s in Italy, my friend, and records with his lenses and writes.  I should be on the Road with him, or on my own, just gathering, gathering…  In this conference room I feel like a professor and writer but with contingencies, I fucking hate that!  I’ve always said my ultimate of ultimate aims with writing and artistry has been freedom, and freedom isn’t found in an application, nor playing by expectation’s planned maze and stressful trapeze.  I’ll go for a walk, go into the library, walk around campus, then back to the cell.  On way home, drive down Guerneville Road, stop at a vineyard, take pictures, shoot a video maybe, anything.  Zen.. Wellness.. Meditation.  I’ll be on the Road soon, I will be, and when I am I’ll only write by hand, no laptops.  Of course, if there’ a nearby library I may post to blog— no, I will, but the fixating practice will be with ink.

One of the lectures in the ‘Decided Writer’ piece will be on location, finding one that connects with you, that teaches you something about yourself and how you measure your surroundings.

Having trouble waking up.

“Have some coffee then, Mike,” the coffee chants from inside that tumbler.

But it’s biased, right?

Why should I listen to it?  Well.. because for the writer coffee is holy.  I’ve always said that alcohol, even or actually especially wine, slows and stumps, sectionalizes the writer.  I take a deep chug of that sumatra, wait for something to happen—  That’s just my problem, has been one of my biggest problems, my whole goddamn life.  Waiting for something to happen.  So I very much need this detour home with the pictures of vineyards and new sounds, sights that are close to the Autumn Walk Studio that I never knew about.  My whole life on display, so I can understand it better, so readers can maybe understand themselves more usefully, and so I can understand with more grace and introspective geography why I’m so needed by, in need of, words; WHY I WRITE.  Why am I writing right now?  Why don’t I go home early, take a nap, or go to the gym and do some speed work, or drive up to the Healdsburg Square and take myself out to lunch with all this extra money I have before bills and other obligatory shit swallows it?  Because the paragraphs call.  I’m with my vision, loving where my thinking takes me.  Meditation…  Understanding (not just awareness, or “self-awareness”).  Knowing your character, heightened tenacity in self-connection.

Wrote a spoken-word piece in class today, when I prompted the matriculants write a self-portrait, in any form they saw warranted, prose, poem, hybrid, whatever.  Like what I wrote, surprisingly, but I think it’s drained me for the day.  Think I do need that nap— shit, laptop lower on power, down to 16%.  Precisely why when I’m on the Road it’ll be a pen-to-paper mission.

After short break I arrive in the adjunct cell, pull up the newsletter doc, and get to work.  Just need enough readers, what I tell myself.  And I’m quite sure that’s the key.  AND… sleeplessness.  One commonality with all these successful entrepreneurs is long, sleepless, crEATive nights.  Mine, my first, tonight.  Buy 7UP on the way home, and sparkling water (remind remind remind) —

Talk with full-timer friend.  Her views on the profession are bitter, embittered, exhausted and defeated.  Then I think of this blog, a lifestyle blog, me looking at my reflection and wanting to not just be better but more, more for my kids and always coming home happy.  I do now for the most part, but there could be more a beam from me when I pull up to the Autumn Walk Studio.

Back to working on the letter.  The coffee again fails me, just making it so I have to pee every ten minutes it seems.  Annoying.