I want a haircut, that much is planned more or less. Other than that I have no plans for day and it feels ravishing and renewing. Like a writer, one I need to be and see myself becoming.
Working on business most of the day, notes in one place. Have to get better about that. Only a handful of sips from the latte, and I’m off, off the ground, in flight.
Healdsburg again today, writing spot already chosen. Bringing a book with me, but which. Shit, the means I need to stop by storage unit. Oh well, need to anyway. Two books, Road and Sedaris. Okay, and Lawson.
When I notice myself thinking excessively and not writing it only leads to more of the same. And like I said somewhere, either on this blog or in one of the too many journals I have, there WILL be a sign up in the office reading “NO THINKING.” Can’t wait to see the reactions. “What do you mean no thinking, Mikey?….So wait, is it really bad to think about what you’re doing?” Can hear that and more, right now at this desk.
Yes. And yes. Don’t think. Write, create… BUILD. Thought is for after, if at all.
Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve pursued photog rather than words. Would have been an interest result. Would it have? Any more “interesting” than being a writer? Me, a photographer….. I don’t see it. I can pretend, and wonder, but that’s where I hit several wall. All doused in heaping pragmatism.