Back from field. Settling in, getting caught up. No TV tonight… back at desk. Wine is fine, but I need compose and derive composition from the evening and what’s to transpire tomorrow. Back in field, and fuck my second Covid shot.
Moving at what seems a mile a minute or more. Must be the espresso shot I just pounded.
In a groove, and I hate that word. While having lunch in Petaluma I thought of writing about the city, or town. And if not writing about it then just writing there. A whole book from the Wild Goat. Shit, could probably finish a book in one sitting with how slow the service is. Not to any detriment but wildly to my delight. Didn’t feel rushed, but rather encouraged to write and look around notice the buildings and the bricks, that roundabout int he road on 2nd and whatever, looking out at the Foundry Wharf from my little circular chair…. Getting closer to my office, to the day where all I do is write.
Talking to self and instructing less care, less obsession other than with the moment itself. The time, the Now.. here at this desk after being in the field, thinking of how much I miss my babies when they’re not here but when they’re here all I want is quiet. Goddamn my humanness. We are so flawed and inconsistent as characters but that’s what makes us character and frankly worthy of study and page.
Luis the Gardner lands. Really admire him. His truck, his branding, how he only accepts cash. Thankfully I have money for my man today. In the field I thought about truncating, and how I hate it but know it has to occur. So then.. what.
Friend Taryn from Lancaster messages me. And of course that makes me miss my Sundays there. Promised I visit on Friday and get wine. Drew should be coming by tonight with 6 bottles I bought, or rather that he chose and charged. Wine reminding the value of simplicity, talk what you’ve already told and are still telling.