Summer is just about here; the entire forest is dark brown and green, fertility promised and fertility delivered. The green awakens some kind of unknowable desire – I can walk through the woods and stop and stare at the leaves glowing green, utterly confounded as to what I am.
Lots of writing and lots of discipline recently. My body has been ailing, so I’ve been confined indoors; and my truck is not running either, so I’m confined to the valley. A little short of money as well, which rather curtails the sphere of one’s activities. But as so often, what we lose in extension, we gain in intensity. On the clear nights I’ve been writing, with such excitement I have to get up and pace the room, or step outside and stare at the stars before the pulsing can be made words again. On the rainy days I write and then get up and cast incantations at the greening world all around me, bidding it to “Grow! Grow!”
In these moods I’m surely just on the edge of sanity, but that’s why sometimes it’s good to live alone, precisely to walk on this sword-width bridge.