Thursday, November 12, 2020

Avoid, open a blank document and geranium.

1. To see walkers on other paths across the common. Sometimes our gazes meet and we change direction to avoid meeting.
2. I feel uncomfortable about a story I wrote during a workshop. It's too close to reality, too unkind a portrait, not enough of a story. I am uncomfortable near the membrane between memoir and fiction and every instinct tells me to retreat. Nonetheless, I open a blank document and begin. In the end, I have a piece of fiction that I can share with the group.
3. I pull a few dead leaves off a scented geranium. This action  releases an interpretation of lemons.

Rind, clink and treat.

1. Loving the green on green stripes of the watermelon rind. 2. As I go up the stairs, I can hear from his room the clinking of a spoon in a...