1-30-23

6:24.  Landed at poz loft a little bit ago.  Told myself I’d relax and not jump on laptop 1st thing, nor look at any of the receipts for the Money Architecture Project, but I couldn’t help myself.

Not that hungry.  Had lunch at Mendo Farms with my SE a bit after one.  My disposition, all placid, Composition, calm and grateful.  Wrote a good amount in the new journal, realizations and new strengths, new convictions and Roads for me – an aging writer.

Owe Uncle Stevie a letter.  Not sure I’ll get to it tonight.  I’ll make myself write it, try and be as funny as him.  He’s hilarious, and his lines are clean and detailed, engaging in a way I’ve never seen.

Going to be like Dad tonight, working after dinner.  No TV, no Netflix or fucking HBO Max.  No way.  Books to finish, tours to do, ideas to exchange with other writers, whatever age, but I look forward to talking to students again.  Not teaching them how to write, at all.  Just talking.  Reading to each other maybe.. easy, informal, human and inviting.

Okay I’m stepping away from the keys and this screen.  

Rest.  

Deserved.