7:06am, at desk already. Didn’t get much sleep. Yes, Henry being the reason. Sipping espresso and plan on taking early nap since I need to be in Field today and want to run. Old route, around Sonic HQ.
Not in a writing mood yet like always my first impulse is to come to the desk and write. But I’m throwing sentences at the screen that— Just stay in the chair. Follow your own advice. Pretend you’re watching Mike Madigan right now, as you type. This is what I’m saying to myself on this really early and odd morning. Would go into the oddities but no need. You’ll learn that sooner than later, I’m guessing.
Thought about writing about the wine industry and wine, but I’m still not there yet with wine. Yes it was fun going to Napa with Chris on, what day was that, Saturday and yes it was nice sipping with the neighbors when back, but then what. With wine I’m always thinking, “Okay what now?” Wine has such a visual harnessed to it, such a float, such a pitch and pattern. And not just the industry, on the consumer’s side too. Yeah so no writing about wine.
Just finished espresso. No more after that since I’m going to definitely need a nap if I’m going to survive the day, and get a run in, some speed work at the ’24’ in Rohnert Park.
Don’t forget to make a trip to storage unit, drop off some stuff. Just excess books and other objects that haven’t seen much attention from me. Boring… need material. Need a story of stories. Something that changes everything in this week and helps me build what I’m trying to. One idea lands but I shoe it away, putting this week as one document and seeing what’s there upon fin. No, not the right way. Fuck, think… MUSIC. Put some on. Anything.
LoFi beats, no surprise. Need consistent and accommodating rhythm but also some calmness to the tracks. My mood right now, not favorable, not agreeable, and plainly not pleasant. So many talking about Mental Health right now, maybe I ought explore my own. One declaration, silence. Don’t speak as much, write more. And with writing, don’t do that as much rather be more an observer. Observe this room, I say to myself trying to ignore that glare from the windowsill. Check phone messages, none, then scroll a bit and see an interview with a hip-hop artist reminding people to tell their story. Of course I’ve heard this before but this intersection communicates differently for some reason.
Finding happiness, getting There, to your There…. More than a story, but a purposeful position and purpose. Then I think of poetry, of course. My recent challenge to self to write more, not be such a prose addict and peddler. Just wrote one, quick. Five lines. More of a reminder to self to stop thinking so much and just move, play, be music – a jazz jam session, always.
Thinking of something Dad said to me last year – more notes, not complete sentences, log everything that happens. Don’t think too hard, don’t try to be literary, just write. Where I am right now in my thinking. Espresso done, readying for nap. Only 7:40 so day hasn’t really started. Definitely heading to office, and will run old route rather than boring treadmill work.
Hear saw in distance, one of the last unbuilt lots on San Miguel. Build, I think. Build IT.